Summary

I Part. The Past Interrogated and Unmasked 25-45 Everyday Life in Medieval Portugal. A Historiographic Overview Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho 47-65 Medieval Studies in Chile. Review of their Formation and Publications Luis Rojas Donat 67-107 After the 12th Century: War and Legal Order (or, of Historiography and its Chimeras) Federico Devís 109-122 Holy War, Crusade and in recent Anglo-American Historiography about the Iberian Peninsula Carlos Laliena

II Part. The Past Studied and Measured 125-144 The War in Leon and Castile (ca. 1110-1130). Internal Crisis and Imaginary of Violence Pascual Martínez 145-161 Rhythms in the Process of Drawing up Crusading Proposals in the Peninsula Amancio Isla 163-189 Wars in 12th Century . Aristocracy and Political Leadership Maria Bonet 191-209 The Catalan-Aragonese Expedition to Toulouse and the Submission of Nice and Forcauquier (1175-1177): a before and an after in the Course of the Great Occitan War Pere Benito 211-223 War and Taxation. The Soldadas from the Reign of Alfonso VIII of Castile to the 13th Century Carlos Estepa IMAGO TEMPORIS Medium Aevum 225-252 Monks and Knights in Medieval . The Example of the Benedictines of Toxos Outos in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries Francesco Renzi 253-264 The Role of the Eucharist in the making of an Ecclesiology according to Haimo of Auxerre’s Commentary on I Cor Alfonso Hernández 265-286 Teleology, Natural Desire and Knowledge of God in the Summa Contra Gentiles Sebastián Contreras, Joaquín García-Huidobro 287-303 The Role of the Batlle General and Acquafredda Castle in Late 14th Century Regnum Sardiniae Alessandra Cioppi IMAGO TEMPORIS III Part. The Past Explained and Recreated 307-327 Medieval Soundspace in the new Digital Leisure Time Media Juan Francisco Jiménez, Gerardo Rodríguez 329-340 CARMEN: Collaboration in the Face of Contemporary Challenges Simon Forde Medium Aevum 343-544 Originals of the texts not Submitted in English 0 1 0 3 9 3 9 (2015)

8 9 (2015) 8 8 1 7 7 SSN 1888-3931 SSN 9 I

9 (2015) Lleida 550 pages ISSN: 1888-3931

Imago Temporis Portada 9 (2015).indd 1 21/04/2016 12:26:43

IMAGO TEMPORIS Medium Aevum

IX

2015

Lleida

European Union Editor Flocel Sabaté

Scientific board David Abulafia, François Avril, Thomas N. Bisson, Marc Boone, Franco Cardini, Claude Carozzi, Giovanni Cherubini, Ottavio Di Camillo, Peter Dronke, Paul Freedman, Claude Gauvard, Jean-Philippe Genet, Jacques Grand’Henry, Christian Guilleré, Eleazar Gutwirth, Albert G. Hauf, Hagen Keller, Dieter Kremer, Eberhard König, Peter Linehan, Georges Martin, Valentino Pace, Adeline Rucquoi, Teófilo Ruiz, Gennaro Toscano, Pierre Toubert, André Vauchez, Chris Wickham, Joaquín Yarza, Michel Zimmermann

Editorial board Julián Acebrón, Stefano Asperti, Màrius Bernadó, Hugo O. Bizzarri, Maria Bonet, Joan J. Busqueta, Brian Catlos, Josep Antoni Clua, Pietro Corrao, Rita Costa Gomes, Luis Miguel Duarte, Josep Maria Escolà, Francisco Javier Faci, Francesc Fité, Isabel Grifoll, Ariel Guiance, Amancio Isla, Nikolas Jaspert, Henrik Karge, Peter Klein, Adam Kosto, María del Carmen Lacarra, Emma Liaño, Igor Philippov, Olivier Poisson, Philip D. Rasico, Jesús R.Velasco, Damian J. Smith, Karen Stöber, Xavier Terrado, Marie-Claire Zimmermann

Secretariat Gemma Carnisé

Editorial assistants Sandra Cáceres, Albert Cassanyes, Robert Cuellas, Joan Montoro, Rogerio Ribeiro Tostes

Linguistic correction Chris Boswell

Published by ’Espai, Poder i Cultura’ Consolidated Medieval Studies Research Group (Universities of Lleida and Rovira i Virgili) www.medieval.udl.cat

© Edicions de la Universitat de Lleida, 2015 Layout: Edicions i Publicacions de la UdL Cover design: cat &cas Printed in INO Reproducciones, SA ISSN 1888-3931 e-ISSN 2340-7778 DL: L-115-2008 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum

Aims to contribute to a renewal of medieval studies with particular attention to the different conceptual aspects that made up the medieval civilisation, and especially to the study of the Mediterranean area.

Aims to promote reflection about the Middle Ages and the ways to approach it the period —1st part: “the past interrogated and unmasked” —; In-depth discussion of leading research themes —2nd part: “the past studied and measured” —; including the analysis of the ways of diffusion and popularising ideas and cultures —3rd part: “the past explained and recreated”—.

Is offered annually as a vehicle for exchanges among medievalists all over the world, in the context of a globalised planet, stimulated by intellectual plurality, open to debate on ideas and faithful to scientific rigour.

Will publish in the format of articles those texts that pass a rigorous peer-reviewed evaluation with independent and separate analyses by at least two leading experts, who are not part of the editorial board of the journal. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum has been selected for inclusion in Thomson Reuters Web of Science Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum is on ISI Web of Knowledge

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This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial- NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://cre- ativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/. INSTITUTIONAL AFFILIATIONS

Editor

Flocel Sabaté. Professor in Medieval History. Departament d’Història, Facultat de Lletres. Universitat de Lleida. PlaçaVíctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida ().

Scientific board

David Abulafia.Professor in Mediterranean History. History Faculty, Gonville and Caius College, University of Cambridge. Trinity Street, Cambridge CB2 1TA (United Kingdom). François Avril. Conservator of the Department of Manuscripts. Bibliothèque National de . 58 rue Richelieu, 75002 Paris (France). Thomas N. Bisson. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Harvard College, Harvard University. 213 Robinson, Cambridge, 02138 Massachussets (USA). Marc Boone. Professor in Urban, Social and Political History. Department of Medieval History, Faculty of Arts and Philosophy, Ghent University. Blandijnberg 2, 9000 Ghent (Belgium). Franco Cardini. Director of Medieval Historical Research.Istituto Italiano di Scienze Umane. Piazza degli Strozzi 1 (Palazzo Strozzi), 50123 Florence (Italy). Claude Carozzi. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Département d’Histoire, Université de Provence-Aix-Marseille. 29 avenue Robert Schumann, 13621 Aix-en-Provence cedex 01 (France). Giovanni Cherubini. Emeritus Profesor in Medieval History. Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia, Università degli Studi di Firenze. Via S. Gallo 10, 50129 Florence. (Italy). Ottavio Di Camillo. Emeritus Professor in European Literature and Latin Middle Age. Center for Latin American, Caribbean, and Latino Studies, The Graduate Center, University of New York. 365 Fifth Avenue, New York 10016 (USA). Peter Dronke. Emeritus Professor of Medieval Latin Literature. Faculty of Modern and Medieval Languages. University of Cambridge. Sidgwick Avenue, Cambridge CB3 9DA (United Kingdom). Paul Freedman. Chester D. Tripp Professor in Medieval History.Department of History, Yale University. P.O. Box 208324 New Haven, Connecticut 06520-8324 (USA). Claude Gauvard. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Laboratoire de Médiévistique Occidentale de Paris, Université Panthéon-Sorbonne (Paris I). 17 rue de la Sorbonne, 75005 Paris; Institut Universitaire de France. 103 Boulevard Saint- Michel, 75005 Paris (France). Jean-Philippe Genet. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Laboratoire de Médiévistique Ocidentale de Paris, Université Panthéon-Sorbonne (Paris I). 17 rue de la Sorbonne, 75005 Paris (France).

8 Jacques Grand’Henry. Professor of Islamic History. Institut Orientaliste, Collège Erasme, Catolic University of Louvain. Place Blaise Pascal 1, 1-1348, Louvain-la- Neuve (Belgium). Christian Guilleré. Professor in Medieval History. Département d’Histoire, Université de Savoie. 27 rue Marcoz, BP 1104, 73011 Chambéry (France). Eleazar Gutwirth. Professor in Medieval History. Faculty of Humanities, Tel Aviv University. Renat Aviv, Tel Aviv 69978 (Israel). Albert G. Hauf. Emeritus Professor in Catalan Philology. Departament de Filologia Catalana, Universitat de València. Avinguda Blasco Ibáñez 32, 46010 Valencia. (Spain); Emeritus Professor. Departament of Hispanic Studies, University of Wales, Cardiff. 30-36 Newport Road (United Kingdom). Hagen Keller. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Fakultät fur Geschichte, Westfälische Wilhems-Universität Münster. Domplatz 20-22, D- 48143 Münster (). Dieter Kremer. Professor in Romanesque Philology. Department of Romanesque Philology, Universität Trier. Universitatsring, 15, D-54286 Trier (Germany). Eberhard König. Professor in Art History. Kunsthistorisches Institut. Freie Universität Berlin.Koserstrasse 20, 19195 Berlin (Germany). Peter Linehan. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. St. John’s College, University of Cambridge. St. John’s Street, Cambridge CB2 1TP (United Kingdom). Georges Martin. Professor in Medieval Hispanic Philology.UFR d’Études Ibériques et Latino-Américaines, Université Paris Sorbonne (Paris IV). 1 rue Victor Cousin, 75230 Paris (France). Valentino Pace. Professor in Art History. Dipartamento di Storia e Tutela dei Beni Culturali, Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia. Università degli studi di Udine. Vicolo Florio 2/b, 33100 Udine (Italy). Adeline Rucquoi. Director of Research. Centre des Recherches Historiques, Centre Nationale de Recherches Scientifiques. 190-198 avenue de France, 75013 Paris (France). Teófilo Ruiz. Professor in Medieval History and Early Modern . Department of History, University of California, Los Angeles. 6265 Bunche Hall, P.O Box 951473, Los Angeles, California 90095-1473 (USA). Gennaro Toscano. Professor in Civilisation and Renaissance Art History. UFR Arts et Culture, Université Charles de Gaulle (Lille III). Rue de Barreau, BP 60149, 59653 Villeneuve d’Ascq (France). Pierre Toubert. Professor in the History of the Western Mediterranean in the Middle Ages. Collège de France, 11 place Marcelin Berthelot, 75231 Paris (France). André Vauchez. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. Département d’Histoire, Université Paris Ouest Nanterre La Défense. 200 avenue de la République, 92001 Nanterre (France). Chris Wickham. Professor in Medieval History. Faculty of History, All Souls College, University of Oxford. The Old Boy’s High School, George Street, Oxford 0X1 2RL (United Kingdom).

9 Joaquín Yarza. Emeritus Professor in Art History. Departament d’Art. Facultat de Filosofia i Lletres.Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona. Edifici B, Campus de la UAB, 08193 Bellaterra, Cerdanyola del Vallès (Spain). Michel Zimmermann. Emeritus Professor in Medieval History. UFR des Sciences Sociales et des Humanités, Université de Versailles-Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines. 47 boulevard Vauban, 78047 Guyancourt cedex (France).

Editorial board

Julián Acebrón. Professor titular in Spanish Philology. Departament de Filologia Clàssica, Francesa i Hispànica, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Stefano Asperti. Professor in Philology. Dipartimento di studi romanzi, Università degli Studi di Roma “La Sapienza”. Piazzale Aldo Moro 5, 00185 Roma. (Italy). Màrius Bernadó. Professor titular in History of Music. Departament d’Història de l’Art i Història Social, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Hugo O. Bizzarri. Professeur associé in Hispanic Philology and History of Language. Mediävistisches Institut der Universität Freiburg, Avenue de l’Europe 20, CH-1700 Freiburg (Switzerland). Maria Bonet. Professora titular in Medieval History. Departament d’Història i Història de l’Art, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). Joan Josep Busqueta. Professor titular in Medieval History. Departament d’Història, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Brian Catlos. Associate Professor of History. Department of History, University of California, Santa Cruz. 201, Humanities 1, 1156 High Street, Santa Cruz California 95064; Associate Professor of Religious Studies. Department of Religious Studies, University of Colorado at Boulder. Humanities 240, 292 UCB Boulder, Colorado 80309-0292 (USA). Josep Antoni Clua. Professor agregat in Greek Philology. Departament de Filologia Clàssica, Francesa i Hispànica, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Pietro Corrao. Professor in Medieval History. Dipartamento di Studi Storici e Artistici, Università di Palermo. Via G. Pascoli 6, 90144 Palermo (Italy). Rita Costa Gomes. Assistant Professor in Medieval History. Department of History, Towson University. 8000 York Road, Towson, Maryland 21252-0001 (USA). Luis Miguel Duarte. Profesor in Medieval History. Departamento de História e de Estudios Políticos e Internacionais, Faculdade de Letras, Universidade do Porto. Via Panorâmica s/n, 4150-564 Porto (Portugal).

10 Josep Maria Escolà. Professor titular in Latin Philology. Departament de Ciències de l’Antigüitat i de l’Edat Mitjana, Facultat de Filosofia i Lletres, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona. Campus de Bellaterra, Edifici B, 08193 Bellaterra (Spain). Francisco Javier Faci. Professor in Medieval History. Departament d’Història i Història de l’Art, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). Francesc Fité. Professor titular in Medieval Art. Departament d’Història de l’Art i Història Social, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça. Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Isabel Grifoll. Professora titular in Catalan Philology. Departament de Filologia Catalana i Comunicació Audiovisual, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Ariel Guiance. Scientific Researcher. Instituto Multidisciplinar de Historia y Ciencias Humanas, Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones Científicas y Técnicas. Saavedra 15, 5º, 1083 Buenos Aires (Argentina). Amancio Isla. Professor in Medieval History. Departament d’Història i Història de l’Art, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). Nicolás Jaspert. Professor in Medieval History. Historisches Seminar, Zentrum für Europäische Geschichts und Kulturwissenschaften (ZEGK), Universität Heidelberg. Grabengasse, 3-5, D-69117 Heidelberg (Germany). Henrik Karge. Professor in Medieval History. Philosophische Fakultät, Institut für Kunst-Und Musikwissenschaft, Technische Universität Dresden. 01062 Dresden (Germany). Peter Klein. Professor in Art History. Fakultät für Kulturwissenschaften Zentrum für Allgemeine Kulturwissenschaften Kunsthistorisches Institut, Tübingen Universität. Bursagasse 1,72070 Tübingen (Germany). Adam Kosto. Professor in Medieval History. Department of History, Columbia University. 404 Fayerweather Hall, Mail Code 2504, 1180 Amsterdam Avenue, New York, NY 10027 (USA). María del Carmen Lacarra. Professor in Medieval Art History. Departamento de Historia del Arte, Facultad de Filosofía y Letras, Universidad de Zaragoza. Calle Pedro Cerbuna 12, 50009 Saragossa (Spain). Emma Liaño. Professor in Medieval Art History. Departament d’Història i Història de l’Art, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). Igor Filippov. Professor in Medieval History. Faculty of History, Lomonosov Moscow State University. 117571 Prospekt Vernadskago, Moscow (Russian Federation). Olivier Poisson. Inspector General of Historic Monuments. Direction de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine, Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication.182, rue Saint-Honoré, 75001 Paris (France).

11 Philip D. Rasico. Professor in Spanish and Catalan. Department of Spanish and Portuguese, Vanderbilt University. P.O. Box 35-1617 Station B, Nashville, Tennessee 37235-1617 (USA). Jesús R. Velasco. Professor in Hispanic Literature. Department of Spanish and Portuguese, Columbia University. 612 W, 116th Street New York. 10027 (USA). Damian J. Smith. Associate professor in Medieval History.Department of History, College of Arts & Sciences, Saint Louis University. Adorjan Hall 3800 Lindell boulevard, Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 (USA). Karen Stöber. Contracted researcher Ramón y Cajal in Medieval History. Departament d’Història, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Xavier Terrado. Professor in Hispanic Philology. Departament de Filologia Clàssica, Francesa i Hispànica, Facultat de Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). Marie-Claire Zimmermann. Emeritus professor in Catalan Philology. UFR d’Études Ibériques et Latino-Américaines, Université Sorbonne (Paris IV). 2 rue Francis de Croisset, 75018 Paris (France).

Memorial Board

Enrico Castelnuovo. Professor in Medieval Art History. Member of the Scientific board, 2007-2013. Alan D. Deyermond. Professor in Medieval Hispanic Philology. Member of the Scientific board, 2007-2009.

12 Authors Volume IX

Pere Benito. Professor Agregat of Medieval History. Departament d’Història, Facultat de Filosofia i Lletres, Universitat de Lleida. Plaça Víctor Siurana, 1, 25003 Lleida (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Famines, Shortages, Dearths, Subsistence Crises, Mortality Crises, Food Supply, Food Markets, Food History, Feudalism, Lordship, Peasantry, Serfdom, Rural History, Agrarian History, Medieval Catalonia. Main publications: Senyoria de la terra i tinença pagesa al comtat de Barcelona (segles XI-XIII). Barcelona: Institución Milá y Fontanals-Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2003; “Famines sans frontières en Occident avant la ’conjoncture de 1300’ ”. Les disettes dans la conjoncture de 1300 en Méditérranée Occidentale À propos d’une enquête en cours”, Monique Bourin, John Drendel, François Menant, eds. Roma: École Française de Rome, 2011: 36-87; “Pleitear contra el señor del castillo y bajo su jurisdicción. Resistencias de los campesinos catalanes frente a la servidumbre de las obras de ’Castell Termenat’”. Studia Historica. Historia Medieval, 30 (2012): 213-235; ed. Crisis alimentarias en la Edad Media: modelos, explicaciones y representaciones. Lleida: Milenio, 2013; (with Antoni Riera) ed. Guerra y carestía en la Europa medieval. Lleida: Milenio, 2014. Maria Bonet. Professora titular of Medieval History. Departament d’Història i Història de l’Art, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya, 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Military orders, Economic history, Military history. Main publications: “Las dependencias personales y las prestaciones económicas en la expansión feudal en la Cataluña Nueva”. , 66/223 (2006): 425-482; “Las órdenes militares en la expansión feudal de la Corona de Aragón”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia medieval, 17 (2011): 243-300; (with Amancio Isla) Tarragona medieval. Capital eclesiàstica i del Camp, Lleida: Pagès Editors, 2011; “La centralización en el gobierno del priorato de Navarra: el convento de Rodas y la gestión de las encomiendas”, La Orden del Hospital de San Juan de Jerusalén: contextos y trayectorias del priorato de Navarra medieval, Julia Pavón, Maria Bonet, eds. Navarra: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas- Ediciones Universidad de Navarra, 2013: 179-273; “Obligaciones y contribuciones de los hospitalarios hispanos al convento de Rodas”, Financiar el reino terrenal. La contribución de la Iglesia a finales de la Edad Media (siglos XIII-XVI), Jordi Morelló, ed. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2013: 281-313. Alessandra Cioppi. Researcher of Historical Sciences. Institute of History of Mediterranean Europe (ISEM)-Italian National Research Council (CNR). Via G.B. Tuveri, 128, 09129 Cagliari, Sardinia (Italy). [email protected]. Main lines of Research: Mediterranean Human migration, Government and Institutions in Medieval Sardinia. Main publications: Le strategie dell’invincibilità. Corona d’Aragona e Regnum Sardiniae nella seconda metà del Trecento. Cagliari: AM&D, 2012; ed. Sardegna e Catalogna officinae d’identità: Riflessioni storiografiche e prospettive di ricerca. Studi in memoria di Roberto Coroneo. Cagliari: CNR-ISEM, 2013; “L’ordinamento istituzionale del Regnum Sardiniae et Corsicae nei secoli XIV e XV”, Sardegna catalana, Anna Maria Oliva, Olivia Schena eds. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2014: 105-135; “Le

13 Carte reali di Martino I, re d’Aragona, riguardanti l’Italia. Il perché dell’edizione di una fonte”. Rivista dell’Istituto di Storia dell’Europa Mediterranea, 13/1 (2014): 5-29. Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho. Professor of Medieval History. Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Coimbra, Largo da Porta Férrea, 3004-530, Coimbra (Portugal). [email protected] lines of Research: political, socio-economic and institutional history, rural and local power, religion, alimentation, daily Life, biography. Main publications: O Mosteiro de Arouca do século X ao século XIII. Coimbra: Centro de História da Universidade de Coimbra, 1977; O Baixo Mondego nos finais da Idade Média. (Estudo de História Rural). Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras, 1983; Homens, Espaços e Poderes. Séculos XI-XVI. Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1990; D. João I, o que re-colheu Boa Memória. Lisboa: Temas e Debates, 2008; O Município de Coimbra. Monumentos Fundacionais. Coimbra: Câmara Municipal de Coimbra-Imprensa da Universidade de Coimbra, 2013. Sebastián Contreras. Professor of Natural Law and Philosohy of Law. Facultad de Derecho, Universidad de los Andes. Avenida Monseñor Álvaro del Portillo 12455, 7620001 Las Condes, Santiago de Chile (Chile). [email protected]. Main lines of Research: Natural Law, Ethics, Determination theory of Law in the Spanish Scholastic. Main publications: “La determinación del derecho natural en Tomás de Aquino. Un estudio a partir de ’Summa Theologiae’ y ’Sententia Libri’ Ethicorum”. Teología y Vida, 54 (2013): 679-706; “La necesidad de la ley humana como intérprete del derecho divino. Fray Juan de la Peña y Martín Lutero sobre los votos monásticos”. Studia monastica, 55/2 (2013): 291-310; “La Escolástica española y su teoría de la justicia: el caso de Luis de León”. Bulletin of Hispanic Studies, 91 (2014): 685-698; “La ley natural y su falta de determinación. Apuntes sobre la teoría clásica de la determinación del derecho natural”. Boletín mexicano de derecho comparado, 47/141 (2014): 839-866. Federico Devís Márquez. Profesor titular of Medieval History. Departamento de Historia, Geografía y Filosofía. Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Universidad de Cádiz. Avenida Dr. Gómez Ulla, 1, 11003, Cádiz (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Constitutional history and political culture of the Late Middle Ages. Main publications: “Notas sobre el diezmo en el obispado de Cádiz al final de la Edad Media”. En la España medieval, 4 (1984): 225-248; “Cádiz, un cuerpo político entre la edad media y la moderna”. Estudios de historia y de arqueología medievales, 10 (1994): 41-46; “Señorío y control de áreas de pasto en Andalucía: estructura y valor de la renta señorial en Zahara de la Sierra (1484-1556)”, Historia social, pensamiento historiográfico y Edad Media: homenaje al Prof. Abilio Barbero de Aguilera. Madrid: Ediciones del Orto, 1997: 475-494; Mayorazgo y cambio político: estudios sobre el mayorazgo de la Casa de Arcos al final de la Edad Media. Cadiz: Universidad de Cádiz, 1999. Carlos Estepa. Research Professor of Medieval History. Instituto de Historia, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas (CSIC). Calle Albasanz, 26-28, 28037, Madrid (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of Research: Castile in Middle Age, eleventh-fourteenth-centuries, royal power, kingdom and lordship. Main publications: Estructura social de la ciudad de León (Siglos XI-XIII). Leon:

14 Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 1977; “Formación y consolidación del feudalismo en Castilla y León”, En torno al feudalismo hispanico: I Congreso de Estudios Medievales. Avila: Fundación Sánchez-Albornoz, 1989: 157-256; (with Cristina Jular), Los señoríos de behetría. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Cientificas, 2001 (english traslation Land, Power and Society in Medieval Castile. A Study of Behetría Lordship. Turnhout: Brepols, 2009), Las behetrías castellanas. Valladolid: Consejeria de Cultura y Turismo de la Junta de Castilla y Leon, 2003; (with Ignacio Álvarez and José Mª Santamarta) Poder real y sociedad: estudios sobre el reinado de Alfonso VIII (1158-1214). Leon: Universidad de Leon, 2011. Simon Forde. Director, Medieval Institute Publications, Western Michigan University. Medieval Institute Publications Western Michigan University, 1903 W. Michigan Avenue, Kalamazoo, Michigan 49008-5432 (USA). simon.forde@ arc-humanities.org. Main lines of research: publications; international networks; global medieval studies. Main publications: “Nicholas Hereford’s Ascension Day sermon, 1382”. Mediaeval Studies, 51 (1989): 205-251; From Ockham to Wyclif, Studies in Church History. Oxford: Blackwell, 1987; “The ’strong woman’ and ’the woman who surrounds a man’: perceptions of woman in Wycliffe’s theological writings”. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 88 (1993): 54-87;“De ore Domini”: preacher and word in the Middle Ages. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 1985; (with Lesley Johnson and Alan V. Murray) Concepts of National Identity in the Middle Ages. Leeds: Leeds Studies in English, 1995. Joaquín García-Huidobro. Professor of Ethics and Natural Law. Facultad de Derecho, Universidad de los Andes. Avenida Monseñor Álvaro del Portillo 12455, 7620001 Las Condes, Santiago de Chile (Chile). [email protected]. Main lines of research: American Baroc, reception of “Ethics to Nicomacus” on Natural Law. Main publications: Razón práctica y derecho natural. Valparaiso: Edeval, 1993; “Eric Voegelin y el derecho natural aristotélico”. Méthexis, 16 (2003): 115-122; “Michael of Ephesus and the Byzantine reception of the Aristotelian doctrine of natural justice”. Archive für Geschichte der Philosophie, 94 (2012): 274-295; ¿Para qué sirve la política?. Santiago de Chile: Instituto RESPublica, 2012; El anillo de Giges. Una introducción a la tradición central de la ética. Madrid: Ediciones Rialp, 2014. Alfonso Hernández. Professor of Medieval War History. Escuela Superior de Guerra (Universidad de la Defensa Nacional), Avenida Luis María Campo, 480, 1426 Buenos Aires (Argentina). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Carolingian exegesis, early medieval ideology. Main publications: “Anthropologie et ecclésiologie dans l’exégèse biblique carolingienne selon le Commentaire sur le prophète Osée d’Haymon d’Auxerre”. Bulletin du Centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre, 14 (2010): 287-298; “Los límites de los conceptos “agustinismo político” y “gelasianismo” para el estudio de las ideas acerca del poder y la sociedad en la Alta Edad Media”. Revista Signum, 11 (2010): 26-48; “Haimón de Auxerre y el profeta Oseas. Exegesis monástica y profecía en el periodo carolingio”. Temas Medievales, 19 (2011): 93-111; “¿Quién es Pedro? Observaciones sobre la exégesis de Mt 16, 13-19 en la homilía In nativitate sancti Petri de Heiric de Auxerre”. Patristica et Mediaevalia, 34 (2013), 16-25; “Predestinación, salvación y penitencia

15 en la exégesis bíblica carolingia. El caso de Haimón de Auxerre y su ’Comentario a Oseas’ (c. 850)”. Studi Medievali, 55 (2014): 593-625. Amancio Isla. Professor of Medieval History. Department of History, Universitat Rovira i Virgili. Avinguda Catalunya, 35, 43002 Tarragona (Spain). amancio.isla@ urv.cat. Main lines of research: Early medieval history, Kingship, Chronicles, war and armies, History of religion. Main publications: Memoria, culto y monarquía hispánica entre los siglos X y XII. Jaen: Universidad de Jaén, 2007; “Discordia fratrum y el influjo historiográfico sobre la Historia mal llamada Silense”.Anuario de estudios medievales, 43/2 (2013): 677-694; Ejército, sociedad y política en la Península Ibérica entre los siglos VII y XI. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2011, “Monnaie et échanges dans le royaume astur-léonais”, Objets sous contrainte. Circulation des richesses et valeur des choses au Moyen Àge, Laurent Feller, Ana Rodríguez, eds. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2013: 181-195. Juan Francisco Jiménez. Profesor Titular of Medieval History. Departamento Prehistoria, Arqueología, Historia Antigua, Historia Medieval y Ciencias y Técnicas Historiográficas, Facultad de Letras, Universidad de Murcia. Calle Santo Cristo, 1, 30001 Murcia (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Repopulation of the Kingdom of Granada, Kingdom of Murcia in the late Middle Ages, Castilian- Nazari border, new technologies applied to the study of the Middle Ages and their impact on society. Main publications: “The other posible past: simulation of the Middle Age in videogames”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 5 (2011): 299-340; “Castilla y el mar Mediterráneo: encuentros y desencuentros en la Baja Edad Media”. Intus-Legere. Historia, 5 (2011): 7-33; “El combatiente del Medievo. Caballeros y vasallos armados durante las conquistas del siglo XIII en la Península Ibérica”, El combatiente a lo largo de la historia: imaginario, percepción, representación, Fidel Gómez, Daniel Macías, eds. Santander: PubliCan Ediciones, 2012: 41-56; El Reino de Murcia: Historia, Lengua e Identidad Cultural (siglos XIII-XVII). Murcia: Ed. Compobell, 2012; “Gobernar fronteras: poderes locales, dominio territorial y control central en la Castilla meridional”. Edad Media. Revista de Historia, 14 (2013): 129-148. Carlos Laliena. Professor of Medieval History. Departamento de Historia Medieval, Ciencias y Técnicas Historiográficas y Estudios Árabes e Islámicos, Facultad de Filosofía y Letras, Universidad de Zaragoza. Calle Pedro Cerbuna, 12. 50009 Saragossa (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: social history and institutions (eleventh-fifteenth-centuries), economic history (fifteenth-century), archaeology (early Middle Ages), rural history, Ebro’s Valley, Aragon, Crown of Aragon. Main publications: Sistema social, estructura agraria y organización del poder en el Bajo Aragón en la Edad Media (siglos XII-XV). Teruel: Instituto de Estudios Turolenses, 1987 (2nd revised and extended edition, 2009); La formación del Estado feudal. Aragón y Navarra en la época de Pedro I. Huesca: Instituto de Estudios Altoaragoneses, 1996; Arqueología y poblamiento. La cuenca del río Martín en los siglos V-VIII. Saragossa: Grupo de Investigación de Excelencia CEMA-Universidad de Zaragoza, 2005; “Las transformaciones de las elites políticas de las ciudades mediterráneas hacia 1300: cambios internos y movilidad social”, La mobilità sociale nel Medioevo, Sandro Carocci,

16 ed. Roma: École Française de Rome, 2010: 147-185; Siervos medievales de Aragón y Navarra en los siglos XI-XIII. Saragossa: Prensas de la Universidad de Zaragoza, 2012. Pascual Martínez. Professor of Medieval History. Departamento de Historia Antigua y Medieval. Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Universidad de Valladolid. Plaza del Campus Universitario, s/n, 47011 Valladolid (Spain). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Royal Power, Medieval Nobility, Market Towns, Personal Names Studies, Saint James’ Way. Main publications: “Ideología y prácticas de las políticas pobladores de los reyes hispánicos (ca. 1180-1230)”, 1212-1214, el trienio que hizo a Europa. Actas de la XXXVII Semana de Estudios Medievales de Estella. Pamplona: Gobierno de Navarra, 2011: 155-182; “Los señoríos de la frontera. Perspectivas sobre la nobleza de Castilla y León en torno a 1200”, Revista Portuguesa de História, 44 (2013): 11-28; “Crisis y proceso político en la unión de 1230”, La Península Ibérica en tiempos de las Navas de Tolosa, Carlos Estepa, María Antonia Carmona, eds. Madrid: Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales, 2014: 169-202; “Las villas del norte del Duero y el comercio local en torno a 1300”, Dynamiques du monde rural dans conjoncture de 1300, Monique Bourin, François Menant, Lluis To, eds. Rome: École Française de Rome, 2014: 285-322. Francesco Renzi. Postdoctoral researcher of Medieval History. Departamento de História e de Estudos Políticos e Internacionais, Faculdade de Letras, Universidade do Porto. Via Panorâmica, 4150-564 Porto (Portugal). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Monastic and Social History, Cistercians’ social networks (local peasants, bishops and knights) in Italy and Spain (twelfth and thirteenth centuries), international connections of the Archbishopric of Braga (eleventh and twelfth centuries). Main publications: Nascita di una signoria monastica cistercense. Santa Maria di Chiaravalle di Fiastra tra XII e XIII secolo. Spoleto: Centro Italiano di Studi Sull’Alto Medio Evo, 2011; “The bone of the contention: Cistercians, bishops and papal exemption. The case of the archdiocese of Santiago de Compostela (1150-1250)”, Journal of Medieval Iberian Studies, 5 (2013): 47-68; “Aristocrazia e monachesimo in Galizia nei secoli XII e XIII: la famiglia Froílaz-Traba e i cistercensi. Ipotesi di ricerca”, Bullettino dell’Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, 115 (2013): 209-228; I monaci bianchi in Galizia. Le reti cistercensi (1142-1250). Trieste: Centro Europeo Ricerche Medievali, 2014. Gerardo Fabián Rodríguez. Profesor Adjunto of Medieval History. Departamento de Historia, Facultad de Humanidades, Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata. Funes 3350, 3º, 7600 Mar de Plata, Buenos Aires (Argentina). [email protected]. Main lines of research: Late Middle Ages Borders and marian devotion, Carolingian Empire, new technologies applied to the study of the Middle Ages and their impact on society. Main publications: Frontera, cautiverio y devoción mariana (Península Ibérica, fines del s. XIV-principios del s. XVII). Sevilla: Secretariado de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Sevilla, 2012; “Épica, memoria e historia. Cómo los carolingios escriben el mundo”. História Revista-Revista da Faculdade de História e do Programa de Pós-Graduação em História da Universidade Federal de Goiás, 17/2 (2012): 69-103; “La historia política de la Alta Edad Media y los historiadores carolingios de la novena centuria: los nuevos rumbos historiográficos”,Textos y contextos (II). Exégesis y

17 hermenéutica de obras tardoantiguas y medievales, Gerardo Rodríguez, dir. Mar del Plata: Eudem, 2012: 213-228; (with Juan Francisco Jiménez) “Sexualidades jugadas. El sexo en los videojuegos históricos”, I Jornadas Interdisciplinarias sobre Estudios de Género y Estudios Visuales (Mar de Plata: Universidad Nacional de Mar de Plata, 2014). Historia y videojuegos. El impacto de los nuevos medios de ocio sobre el conocimiento del pasado medieval. www.historiayvideojuegos.com/?9=node=67); (with Juan Francisco Jiménez) “La visión del musulmán en los videojuegos de contenido histórico”, IX Estudios de Frontera. Economía, Derecho y Sociedad en la Frontera. Homenaje a Emilio Molina López, Francisco Toro, José Rodríguez, coords. Jaen: Diputación de Jaén, 2014: 317-336. Luis Rojas Donat. Professor of Medieval History. Departamento de Ciencias Sociales, Facultad de Educación y Humanidades, Universidad del Bío Bío. Avenida La Castilla s/n, Chillán, (Chile). [email protected]. Main lines of research: History of Portuguese and Spanish overseas expansion, Early Spanish conquest of America, History of medieval law, History of Medieval Papacy. Main publications: España y Portugal ante los otros. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2002; Orígenes históricos del Papado. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2006; Para una meditación de la Edad Media. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2009; Derecho y Humanismo en el siglo XV. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2010; La primera defensa del indio americano. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2013; Poner las manos al fuego. Ordalías, duelos y venganzas en la Edad Media. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío Bío, 2014.

18 CONTENTS Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum. Volume IX. Year 2015

I Part. The Past Interrogated and Unmasked

25-45 Everyday life in Medieval Portugal. A historiographic overview Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho

47-65 Medieval studies in Chile. review of their formation and publications Luis Rojas Donat

67-107 After the 12th century: war and Legal order (or, of Historiography and its chimeras) Federico Devís

109-122 Holy war, Crusade and Reconquista in recent Anglo-American historiography about the Iberian Peninsula Carlos Laliena

II Part. The Past Studied and Measured

125-144 The war in Leon and Castile (ca. 1110-1130). Internal crisis and imaginary of violence Pascual Martínez

145-161 rhythms in the process of drawing up crusading proposals in the Peninsula Amancio Isla

163-189 wars in 12th century Catalonia. aristocracy and political leadership Maria Bonet

191-209 The Catalan-Aragonese expedition to Toulouse and the Submission of Nice and Forcauquier (1175-1177): a before and an after in the course of the Great Occitan War Pere Benito

211-223 war and taxation. The soldadas from the Reign of Alfonso VIII of Castile to the 13th century Carlos Estepa

19 225-252 Monks and knights in Medieval Galicia. The example of the Benedictines of Toxos Outos in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries Francesco Renzi

253-264 The role of the Eucharist in the making of an ecclesiology according to Haimo of Auxerre’s commentary on I Cor Alfonso Hernández

265-286 Teleology, natural desire and knowledge of God in the Summa Contra Gentiles Sebastián Contreras, Joaquín García-Huidobro

287-303 The role of the Batlle General and Acquafredda castle in late 14th century Regnum Sardiniae Alessandra Cioppi

III Part. The Past Explained and Recreated

307-327 Medieval Soundspace in the new digital leisure time media Juan Francisco Jiménez, Gerardo Rodríguez

329-340 CARMEN: collaboration in the face of contemporary challenges Simon Forde

Originals of the Texts not Submitted in English

343-359 A vida quotidiana medieval portuguesa. Percurso historiográfico Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho

360-376 Los estudios medievales en Chile: reseña de su formación y publicaciones Luis Rojas Donat

377-412 después del siglo XII: la guerra y el ordenamiento (o de la Historiografía y sus quimeras) Federico Devís

413-424 Guerra Santa, Cruzada y Reconquista en la reciente historiografía angloamericana sobre la península ibérica Carlos Laliena

20 425-439 La guerra en León y Castilla (ca. 1110-1130). Crisis interna e imaginario de la violencia Pascual Martínez

440-454 Ritmos en el proceso de elaboración peninsular de las propuestas de Cruzada Amancio Isla

455-477 Las guerras en la Cataluña del siglo XII. Aristocracia y liderazgo político Maria Bonet

478-491 La expedición catalano-aragonesa contra Tolosa y la submisión de Niza y Forcauquier (1175-1177): un antes y un después en el desarrollo de la gran guerra occitana Pere Benito

492-503 Guerra y fiscalidad. En torno a las soldadas desde el reinado de Alfonso VIII. Castilla hasta fines del siglo XIII Carlos Estepa

504-514 La función de la eucaristía en la construcción de una eclesiología en el comentario a I Cor. de Haimón de Auxerre Alfonso Hernández

515-529 Il ruolo del batlle general e il castello di Acquafredda nel Regnum Sardiniae alla fine del XIV secolo Alessandra Cioppi

530-544 Paisajes sonoros medievales en los nuevos medios de ocio digital Juan Francisco Jiménez, Gerardo Rodríguez

21

I PART THE PAST INTERROGATED AND UNMASKED

EVERYDAY LIFE in medieval portugal. A HISTORIOGRAPHIC OVERVIEW

Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho Universidade do Coimbra Portugal

Date of receipt: 16th of September, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 17th of February, 2014

Abstract

The historiographic overview presented begins with a very early book written in the 1960s by Antonio Henrique de Oliveira Marques, A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa. Aspectos da Vida Quotidiana (Portuguese Medieval Society. Aspects of Everyday Life) and ends with the collective work published in 2012, História da Vida Privada em Portugal (A History of Private Life in Portugal), the first volume of which focuses on the Middle Ages. We seek to chart a course between these two milestones, setting out developments in studies of economic, social, religious and cultural history and the history of mentalities that have dealt with aspects of everyday life: the home, the dining table and other forms of conviviality, in more rural or urban environments; work days and festive occasions; devotions, religiosity and death; and family, women and children.

Keywords

Medieval Society, Medieval Everyday Life, Medieval Historiography.

Capitalia Verba

Societas Mediaevalis, Quotidiana Medii Aevi vita, historiographia medievalis.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 25-45 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.01 25 26 Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho

We begin this historiographic study by presenting a work from the 1960s and end with another from this decade of the 21st century. The former deals with everyday life in the Middle Ages and the latter with private life. Since the two concepts are not identical but do intersect, this of course allows us to present some conceptual points regarding them. These works, separated by five decades, serve as beacons marking the historiographic journey followed in Portugal in this subject. Studies of rural and urban history are analysed. These subjects were dealt with in the revitalised Portuguese economic and social history from the 1980s onwards. We have also analysed studies of religious history and the history of the nobility and social groups, seeking references to the everyday lives of men and women in different institutional and social contexts and in spatial and power frameworks. As we move on towards the end of the 20th century, monographs, articles and chapters in synthesis studies set out many themes in everyday public and private life: women and childrearing, work, homes, diet, clothing, care, death, the body and sexuality, belief and spirituality, cultures, celebrations and games. They sought to make these subjects known through the conceptual and methodological deepening and broadening they provide and through new ground-breaking fields, many of which are still in development.

1

In 1956, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira Marques graduated with a dissertation titled A Sociedade em Portugal nos séculos XII a XIV (Society in Portugal in the 12th to 14th centuries) published under the title A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa (Aspectos da vida quotidiana) (Medieval Portuguese Society (Aspects of Everyday Life)) by Editora Sá da Costa in 1964. Very recently, in 2012, Círculo de Leitores published História da Vida Privada em Portugal (A History of Private Life in Portugal) in several volumes, the first of which covers the Middle Ages. As we are well aware, everyday life and private life are not exactly the same thing but they are very closely-related concepts. One striking aspect is, of course, the very long period of time (more than half a century) between the two works, which makes us very much aware of the slow maturing of these issues in Portuguese historiography. However, before we go further into this historiographic development, let us look at the first work. Oliveira Marques’s study, which has now gone through six editions in Portuguese (published in 1964, 1971, 1975, 1981, 1987 and 2012, respectively),1 and two in English,2 contains ten chapters dealing with the dining table, clothing, the home, hygiene and health, affections, work, childrearing, culture, entertainment and death.

1. The first five by Sá da Costa Editora and the last by Esfera dos Livros in a posthumous edition. 2. Respectively 1971 and 2003.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 25-45 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.01 Everyday life in Medieval Portugal 27

It thus deals with certain subjects that are material in nature, which have economic and social implications, as well as others that reveal behaviour, cultural aspects and mentalities. The author appears to have been fascinated by certain passages written by Costa Lobo in his study História da Sociedade em Portugal (History of Society in Portugal), but had very few Portuguese historiographic references in support of it. There were eminent geographers, ethnologists and historians at the Faculty of Arts in Lisbon (one cannot overlook Virgínia Rau’s important contribution here) who set him off on the path towards this innovative, ground-breaking work.3 That did not prevent the author from stating, in the preface to the first edition, that this was “a pioneering work with all of the disadvantages trailblazing always brings with it, such as inexperience and indecision in the face of unforeseen difficulties”.4 But he also confirms that there is less originality in the chapters on affection and belief and that the part on culture is a synthesis of works written on the subject. Oliveira Marques explains the work’s structure with all the clarity of his methodical and pragmatic spirit, “Selection of the chapters was guided by life and the needs of every human being. Above all, humans need food, clothing and shelter. Avoiding death requires certain hygiene habits and an effort to maintain one’s health. Then comes love, work, prayer, education and fun. And finally death and burial”.5 He also mentions why certain issues were left out; either because they would make the work a lot longer or due to lack of research to form their basis; and he explains why the time period covered by the study runs from the 12th to the 15th centuries. This work had very little historiographic impact in the 1960s and even in the 1970s. As I have written previously,6 it was actually only in the 1980s, after some more in-depth work on the clergy and the nobility, that all the ins and outs of the various strata in Portuguese medieval society were brought to the fore and the everyday aspects of living, feeling and dying were considered. A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa by Oliveira Marques then practically became “a Bible”. No-one considered the roles and rhythms of work for medieval people, their conditions of habitation, hygiene and health, the external manifestations of clothing and dining, their affections and beliefs, their cultural values or forms of entertainment or the way in which they faced death without reference to this fundamental work. And there they also found the identifying feature of that author’s entire scholarly

3. The reality was that in Lisbon in the 1950s and 60s, the most innovative aspects of society and everyday life were studied in theses such as Martins, Maria Otília Simões. Elementos para o estudo do vestuário nos séculos XII-XIV. Lisbon: Faculdade de Letras, 1959; Baquero, Humberto Moreno. Subsídios para o estudo da sociedade medieval (moralidade e costumes). Lisbon: Faculdade de Letras, 1961; Santos, Vitor Manuel Pavão dos. A casa do Sul de Portugal na transição do século XV para o XVI. Lisbon: Faculdade de Letras, 1964. Oliveira Marques continued publishing articles on population and aspects of social and economic life, later collected in the work: Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. Ensaios de História Medieval Portuguesa. Lisbon: Portugália Editora, 1965. 4. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa (Aspectos da vida quotidiana). Lisbon: Esfera dos Livros, 2010: 15. 5. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa...: 16. 6. Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz da Cruz. “A medievalidade na obra de A. H. de Oliveira Marques”, Na jubilação universitária de A. H. de Oliveira Marques. Coimbra: Minerva, 2003: 24-25.

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output: clear and systematic exposition of each subject, presented with clarity and objectivity, using explicitly detailed technical and scientific vocabulary, based on broad, systematic research of sources, which are always provided and fully identified. I expect that all researchers who have felt the need to turn to this work found in it some suggestion, bibliographical information or documentary clue that ended up being useful to them. As themes of everyday life, conviviality, feelings and religiosity became part of the circuit of teaching and learning, both in university and at other levels of education, this book was then read and reread and became an essential reference work. Its text and illustrations have in fact been used by many teachers and students as the basis for reconstructing past times today: for dressing characters, decorating medieval fairs, festivals, games, tournaments and theatres, or putting on ambassadorial processions or royal entrances. Let us move on to the first volume of the second work, coordinated by Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, História da Vida Privada em Portugal, edited by José Mattoso.7 It is made up of three parts, starting with places and spaces, then focussing on the body and finally reaching the soul. The first part distinguishes between urban and rural spaces, setting out the different room structures in palaces and houses. Structures of kinship, marriages and names used to describe family relationships are explained. Festival and convivial settings, and marks of exclusion and marginality, are revealed. The body is identified by the individual names, food used as sustenance, specific details concerning women and children, with attention given to sexuality, health and disease. Soul and spirit are revealed in the devotions and spirituality of men and women, the representation of death rituals and vision of the afterlife, and in mechanisms used to perpetuate the memory of individuals and lineages. In general, the work is modelled on História da Vida Privada (A History of Private Life), published in 1983, which was outlined by Philippe Ariès with specific details filled in essentially by Georges Duby (and a group of contributors) after the former’s death. Right at the beginning of this book, its managing editor, José Mattoso, explains the presuppositions and doubts expressed by Georges Duby. He raised problematic questions such as the dichotomy between public and private life and the no less thorny issue of the border between private life and everyday life as well as the concept of individual and individualism. However, the book also contains a specific introduction by its editor and coordinator, who sets out the specific difficulties of a history of private life in medieval times. He of course includes the scarcity of sources, further reinforces the issue regarding the clerical texts that have come down to us, which are imbued with a normative strategy that conceals details of private life, while accentuating the late acquisition of individual consciousness of sin and the morality of human actions, and stresses the tricky border between public and private, especially in medieval times. Regarding the last point he writes, “we must underline, firstly, that the use

7. Mattoso, José, dir.; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Lisbon: Temas e Debates-Círculo de Leitores, 2010.

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of the concept of private life for societies prior to the establishment of the Modern State must go hand-in-hand with precautions that relativise its meaning and scope; secondly, unlike in the Modern Age, the opposition between public and private may not be exclusive, in other words there are domains in which it is meaningless and there are even those that, either public or private.”8 The work was written with the participation of fourteen contributors, who were responsible for the various analysed subjects. The subjects are consistent within and among themselves and are largely the fruit of research and studies produced from the 1980s to 2010. This updated synthesis would not have been possible without them, just as historiographic development conditioned the structure of the collective work. Examination of this work can also be an exercise in the history of Portuguese medieval history.9

2

Many assessments of Portuguese medieval studies have already stressed how, in the 1980s, two major areas of study appeared: rural history and urban history.10 Five doctoral theses on rural history in that decade (by Robert Durand,11 Maria Helena Coelho,12 Iria Gonçalves,13 Pedro Barbosa14 and Rosa Marreiros15) opened up the path to knowledge concerning aspects such as colonisation processes, land clearing and cultivation, production, prices and consumption, ways in which landlords operated, landlords’ rents and incomes, interaction of powers and rights over land

8. Mattoso, José, dir.; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. Historia da Vida Privada em Portugal...: 21. 9. For a recent summary about the studies of everyday life, see Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. “The history of everyday life”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 513-527. 10. Among others, see Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Balanço sobre a história rural produzida em Portugal nas últimas décadas”, A cidade e o campo. Colectânea de estudos. Coimbra: Centro de História da Sociedade e da Cultura, 2000: 23-40; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Historiographie et état actuel de la recherche sur le Portugal au Moyen Âge”. Memini. Travaux et documents, 9-10 (2005-2006): 9-60; Homem, Armando Luís de Carvalho; Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Amaral, Luís Carlos. “Por onde vem o medievismo em Portugal?”. Revista de História Económica e Social, 22 (1988): 115-138. These summaries contain much of the bibliography cited. 11. Durand, Robert. Les campagnes portugaises entre Douro et Tage aux XIIe et XIIIe siècles. Paris: Fundaçao Calouste Gulbenkian-Centro Cultural Portugués, 1982. 12. Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. O Baixo Mondego nos finais da Idade Média. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional Casa da Moeda, 1989. 13. Gonçalves, Iria. O património do mosteiro de Alcobaça nos séculos XIV e XV. Lisbon: Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 1989. 14. Barbosa, Pedro Gomes. Povoamento e estrutura agrícola na Estremadura Central: século XII a 1325. Lisbon: Instituto Nacional de Investigação Científica, 1992. 15. Marreiros, Maria Rosa Ferreira. Propriedade fundiária e rendas da coroa no reinado de D. Dinis: Guimarães. Coimbra: Universidade do Coimbra (PhD Dissertation), 1990.

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possession, rural aristocracies, those who worked the land (from peasants to wage- earners), work rhythms and festival times, village solidarity, ways of life, peasant behaviour and mentalities. Studies of agrarian and rural history extended well into the 1990s and the following decades but as time went by there was somewhat of a slowdown in them.16 Oliveira Marques was the model and motivation behind many of these studies with the 1962 publication of his work, Introdução à História da Agricultura em Portugal (Introduction to the History of Agriculture in Portugal). He also raised the question of cereals (in the 1980s) at the Faculty of Social and Human Science at Universidade Nova de Lisboa. He was a master of urban history who was extraordinarily fertile in producing monographs on the main towns and cities from the north to the south of Portugal.17 Since then medieval urban planning has been made known with its streets, neighbourhoods, houses, prestigious religious or secular public buildings and infrastructure for urban storage, supply and transformation. This revealed household and family units, social stratification and economic activities from means of production to commerce and services, as well as religiosity, urban coexistence and sociability in the form of parish, fraternal and welfare networks. We can see the profiles of lineages and elites of power and governance and how they behaved as a power group or groups, translated into hierarchies, symbols, rituals and urban ceremonies.18 At the

16. See Amaral, Luís Carlos. “Half a Century of Rural History of the Middle Ages in Portugal. A possible overview”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 303-321. 17. Among the pioneers, we highlight Beirante, Maria Ângela Rocha. Santarém Medieval. Lisbon: Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 1980; Gomes, Rita Costa. “A Guarda Medieval. Posição, morfologia e sociedade (1200-1500)”. Cadernos da Revista de História Económica e Social, 9-10 (1987); Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. Uma rua de elite na Guimarães medieval (1376- 1520). Guimarães: Câmara Municipal, 1989; Andrade, Amélia Aguiar. Um espaço urbano medieval: Ponte de Lima. Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1990; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S. A. Torres Vedras. A vila e o termo nos finais da Idade Média. Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacional de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1995; Beirante, Maria Ângela Rocha. Évora na Idade Média. Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacional de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1995; Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. Tomar medieval. Cascais: Patrimonia, 1996; Macias, Santiago. Mértola islâmica. Estudo histórico-arqueológico do Bairro da Alcáçova (séculos XII-XIII). Mertola: Campo Arqueológico de Mértola, 1996; Silva, Manuela Santos. Estruturas urbanas e administração concelhia. Óbidos medieval. Cascais: Patrimonia, 1997. Thus, in the 1990s, there was a scientific meeting on the theme that led to the work:Jornadas Inter e Pluridisciplinares. A Cidade. Actas, coord. Maria José Ferro Tavares. Lisbon: Universidade Aberta, 1993. 18. The theme of urban history, analyzed from different perspectives, has continued to be very fruitful, studied in theses, books and articles by renowned and young historians. For a full analysis of this scientific production of the aforesaid historiographic balance, see Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Costa, Adelaide. Millán da, “Medieval Portugueses Towns. The Difficult Affirmation of a Historiographical Topic”,The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Rocha Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 283-301; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Municipal Power”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 209-230. Another significant expression of production around the urban everyday life and studies are published in the book dedicated to Iria Gonçalves, a historian who has focused on these topics: Andrade Amélia Aguiar; Fernandes Hermenegildo; Fontes, João Luís, coords. Olhares sobre a História. Estudos oferecidos a Iria Gonçalves. Lisbon: Caleidoscópio, 2009.

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point where rural and city studies intersect deeper knowledge has been gained of relationships between urban centres at tense or peaceful times, village boundaries, and the mentalities and behaviour of people from the countryside and the city.19 There is another historian whose contributions are fundamental to the historiographic subject we are dealing with and whose presence marks the 1950s and 1960s, opening up new research fields. He is obviously José Mattoso who, in 1962, published his study L’Abbaye de Pendorada des origines à 1160 and, in 1968, his doctoral thesis Les monastères du diocese de Porto de l’an mille à 1200. Since then, studies of male and female monastic houses under different rules and forms of observance, from Benedictines and Cistercians to Canons Regular of St. Augustine, Dominicans, Franciscans, the Clarisses and, more recently, hermits, followed.20 While the work began with knowledge of male monasteries, from the 1980s and 1990s, under the influence of openness to studying the role of women, female institutions had a great attraction to researchers. And while most of these studies were limited to knowledge of the institution’s organisational and administrative structure, as well as its wealth and income, some of them also reveal aspects of the religious community’s life, as guided by its superiors, in their everyday prayer, liturgical offices and work and in their internal coexistence. They also unveil the family origins of their members and links of affection, complicity and power established with relatives and lineage both inside and outside of the monastic institution. As has often been verified, sisters, aunts, nieces and cousins actually lived together in monastic houses for women. Some of those women even experienced a form of “artificial maternity” and actual “heredity” by bequeathing positions and goods to their descendants. For example, the position of abbess passing from an aunt to a niece. These related nuns protected, helped and supported one another through the religious institution and the influential power of their family, protecting it and enhancing its prestige in a material, spiritual, symbolic and cultural sense. Noblewomen thus ceased to be merely a source of fertile

19. With this focus of study there have been several scientific meetings which led to the worksPaisagens rurais e urbanas. Fontes, metodologias, problemáticas, Iria Gonçalves, coord. Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Históricos da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 2005-2009 and: Costa, Adelaide Millán da, ed. “Paisagens Medievais, 1 e 2”. Media Aetas, Revista de Estudos Medievais (2005-2006): 2ª série, vols. 1 and 2. A summary of this approach is harvested in the chapter: Costa, Adelaide Millán da; Gonçalves, Iria. “O espaço urbano e o espaço rural”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média. José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 24-53. 20. As syntheses, read, among others, Vilar, Hermínia. “História da Igreja Medieval em Portugal: um percurso possível pelas provas académicas (1995-2000)”. Lusitania Sacra, 13-14 (2001-2002): 569-581; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “O que se vem investigando em História da Igreja em Portugal em tempos medievais”. Medievalismo. Boletin da la Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales, 16 (2006): 205-223; Vilar, Hermínia; Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “The Church and Religious Pratics”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Fonseca, Luis Adaõ da; Pimenta, Maria Cristina; Costa, Paula Pinto. Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 323-347; Oliveira, Luís Filipe Da Cruz; Fonseca, Luis Adão; Pimenta, Maria Cristina; Costa, Paula Pinto. “The Military Orders”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 425-457.

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wealth for lineages through marriage and also became fertile wealth for religion, especially through the power some of them managed to exercise by rising to the position of abbess.21 Another area of research on which José Mattoso embarked, the analysis of nobility, also contributed to these latter approaches. Following the meticulous, insightful and useful critical edition of Livros Velhos de Linhagens (Old Books of Lineages) and Livro de Linhagens (Book of Lineages) by Conde D. Pedro, which he issued with Joseph Piel in 1980, this specialist gave us works such as A nobreza Medieval Portuguesa. A família e o Poder (Portuguese Medieval Nobility. The Family and Power), published in 1981,22 and Ricos-Homens, Infanções e Cavaleiros. A nobreza medieval portuguesa nos séculos XI e XII (Ricos-Homens, Infanções and Cavaleiros. The Medieval Portuguese Nobility in the 11th and 12th centuries) published the following year.23 These works revealed the hierarchy established among the most ancient county nobility in their times of ascendance and decadence and the rise of some families of infanções, the intermediate category of nobility, to ricos-homens, the highest level of social standing and power. This has shown us kinship and family structures, marriage policies, power strategies, cultural environments, alliances between Court and Church, and mechanisms for consolidating and perpetuating the memory of individuals and lineages. This area of nobility studies, which seduced many young researchers in the country, from Luís Krus in Lisbon24 to Leontina Ventura25 and António Resende26 in Coimbra and José Augusto Pizarro27 in Oporto, to mention just a few of the first ones, has had an extensive impact on our ability to comprehend medieval society and the composition of social groups. Names, families, kinship,28 women,

21. On these valences of female monasticism, see Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz; Martins, Rui Cunha. “O monaquismo feminino cisterciense e a nobreza medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XIV)”. Theologica, 28/2 (1993): 481-506. 22. Mattoso, José. A nobreza Medieval Portuguesa. A família e o Poder. Lisbon: Editorial Estampa, 1981. 23. Mattoso, José. Ricos-Homens, Infanções e Cavaleiros. A nobreza medieval portuguesa nos séculos XI e XII. Lisbon: Guimarães & Cª Editores, 1982. 24. Krus, Luís. A concepção nobiliárquica do espaço ibérico (1280-1380). Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacional de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1994. 25. Ventura, Leontina. A nobreza de corte de Afonso III. Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras, 1992. 26. Oliveira, António Resende. Depois do espectáculo trovadoresco: a estrutura dos cancioneiros peninsulares e as recolhas dos século XII a XIV. Lisbon: Edições Colibri, 1994. 27. Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. Linhagens medievais portuguesas: genealogias e estratégias, 1279- 1325. Porto: Centro de Estudos de Genealogia, Heráldica e História da Família, Universidade Moderna, 1999. 28. More specifically on family and kinship networks see the summaries by Ventura, Leontina. “A família e o léxico”. História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2010: 98-125 and Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. “A família. Estruturas de parentesco e casamento”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2010: 126-143.

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marriage, poetry, chivalry, palaces, vassals, officials, lordly and courtly life and homes, power and memory, death and burial became emerging subjects that took on a new dimension in light of other concepts and methodologies of anthropology and sociology, which opened up interdisciplinary paths and cut across approaches and knowledge areas. Various noble houses became known, such as Bragança, Vila Real and the home of Infante D. Henrique, together with various lineages, such as the Coutinhos, Melos, Meneses and Pimentéis29 and their family histories and intrigues, as well as their political journeys and strategies.30 At the same time, many aspects of the everyday lives of other social groups were clarified. That was the case for the Jews, about whom Maria José Ferro Tavares wrote two essential works, one on the 14th century and the other on the 15th.31 These told us about their family structure, housing context and relationships among Jews and between Jews and Christians. The poor, the sick and those on the margins of society32 were studied by the same historian33 as well as by Baquero Moreno, who analysed those on society’s margins, pack-

29. Cunha, Mafalda Soares da. Linhagem, parentesco e poder: a Casa de Bragança (1348-1483). Lisbon: Fundação da Casa de Bragança, 1990; Campos, Nuno Silva. D. Pedro de Meneses e a construção da Casa de Vila Real (1415-1437). Lisbon: Edições Colibri, 2004; Sousa, João Silva de. A casa senhorial do infante D. Henrique. Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1991; Oliveira, Luís Filipe. A Casa dos Coutinho. Linhagem, espaço e poder (1360-1425). Cascais: Patrimonia, 1999; Cumbre, José Paiva. Os Melo. Origens, trajectórias familiares e percursos políticos. (Séculos XII-XV). Lisbon: Universidade Nova de Lisboa-Facultade de Cências Sociais e Humanas, 1997; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. Os Pimentéis. Percursos de uma linhagem de nobreza medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XV). Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 2000. 30. A balance of these studies on nobility is in Mattoso, José; Ventura, Leontina; Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos: “The Medieval Portuguese Nobility”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 401-423. 31. Tavares, Maria José Pimenta Ferro. Os judeus em Portugal no século XIV. Lisbon: Guimarães & Cª Editores, 1979; Tavares, Maria José Pimenta Ferro. Os judeus nos século XV. Lisbon: Universidade Nova de Lisboa-Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas, 1982. 32. On this subject we must not forget the early papers presented at scientific meetings in 1959 “Para o estudo da Peste Negra em Portugal. Congresso Histórico de Portugal Medievo”, that were published in: Bracara Augusta, 14-15 (1963) (Actas do Congresso Histórico de Portugal Medievo. Braga: Câmara Municipal de Braga, 1963): 210-230 and A pobreza e a assistencia aos pobres na Peninsula Iberica durante a Idade Media: actas das 1as. Jornadas Luso-Espanholas de Historia Medieval, Lisboa, 25-30 de setembro de 1972. Lisbon: Instituto de Alta Cultura, 1973, 2 vols. For the historiographic comparison on the subject, see the last overview in Duarte, Luís Miguel. “Marginalidade e marginais”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2011: 170-196 and the summary of studies in Duarte, Luís Miguel. “When those on the margins took centre stage”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 499-511. 33. Studies colected in the work by Tavares, Maria José Pimenta Ferro. Pobreza e morte em Portugal na Idade Média. Lisbon: Editorial Presença, 1989.

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animal drivers, travellers and pilgrims, as well as issues of marriage and disease.34 Researchers also did not overlook the perception of welfare solidarity.35 Two synthesis studies on the history of Portugal, which came out in the 1980s, were thus able to consider some of these historiographic contributions.36 In the book Identificação de um país (Identification of a country), José Mattoso, seeking to understand how “people saw the world and organised themselves in an attempt to dominate reality”, presents us with the framework in which work was performed for the lord or manor, the workers, the framework of power and the powerful, people’s kinship and family structures and their mentality, culture, imaginations and systems of representation and memory. In turn, Oliveira Marques, following his tastes and paths, wrote a chapter in Portugal na Crise dos Séculos XIV e XV (Portugal in the Crisis of the 14th and 15th Centuries)37 on everyday life, dealing with food, clothing, housing, health and hygiene, entertainment and affections in the late middle ages.

3

However, during the fertile decades of the 1980s and 1990s, Portuguese historiography also received influences from abroad. We have previously mentioned the refreshing impact of the 5 volumes of the Histoire de la vie Privé edited by Philipe Ariès and Georges Duby and published between 1985 and 1987. This work was soon translated into Portuguese between 1989 and 1991, with a scholarly revision by Armando Luís de Carvalho Homem. Shortly afterwards, came the 1991-1992 publication of the 5 volumes of Storia delle Donne, edited by Georges Duby and Michelle Perrot, which were translated into Portuguese between 1993 and 1995,

34. Among other works and studies, see Moreno, Humberto Baquero. Marginalidade e conflitos sociais em Portugal nos séculos XIV e XV. Estudos de História. Lisbon: Editorial Presença, 1985; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “A acção dos almocreves no desenvolvimento das comunicações inter-regionais portuguesas nos finais da Idade Média”,O papel das Áreas Regionais na Formação Histórica de Portugal. Actas do Colóquios. Lisbon: Associação Portuguesas de História, 1975: 185-229; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “A importância da almocrevaria no desenvolvimento dos concelhos durante a Idade Média”, Vallis Longus, Actas das Primeiras Jornadas Culturais do Concelho de Valongo, 1 (1985): 15-24; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “O casamento no contexto da sociedade medieval portuguesa”. Bracara Augusta, 33/75-76 (1979): 145- 173; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “As peregrinações a Santiago e as relações entre o Norte de Portugal e a Galiza”, Congresso Internacional dos Caminhos Portugueses de Santigo de Compostela. (Actas). Lisbon: Távola Redonda: 75-83; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “Exclusão e marginalidade social no Portugal quatrocentista”. Ler História, 33 (1997): 37-51. 35. Among others Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “As confrarias medievais portuguesas: espaços de solidariedades na vida e na morte”, Actas da XIX Semana de Estudios Medievales de Estella. Confradías, gremios, solidaridades en la Europa Medieval. Estella: Gobierno de Navarra, 1993: 149-183. 36. Mattoso, José. Identificação de um país. Ensaios sobre as origens de Portugal. 1096-1325. Lisbon: Editorial Estampa, 1985. 37. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. Portugal na Crise dos Séculos XIV e XV (Nova História de Portugal. Joel Serrão, António. Henrique Oliveira Marques, dirs., vol. IV). Lisbon: Editorial Presença, 1987.

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with a scholarly revision by Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho, Irene Maria Vaquinhas, Leontina Ventura and Guilhermina Mota. Nevertheless, it must be said that Portuguese historians were attentive to the subject of women and their past, which the April Revolution challenged and committed them to do. The Institute of Economic and Social History at the Faculty of Arts in Coimbra held a conference on Women in Portuguese Society (Historic Overview and Current Prospects) on 20 to 22 March 1985. The two volumes of the conference proceedings were published the following year.38 In his opening speech, the Chairman of the Organising Committee, Dr António de Oliveira, said,

O historiador é filho do seu tempo e o tempo coevo é de mutação e de confronto ideológico. A historiografia contemporânea não podia, por isso, manter-se à margem das reivindicações das mulheres, assumindo uma atitude de silêncio. Nem tão-pouco podia deixar de atentar num dos resultados da nova história social, a qual já havia descoberto a mulher, mas não propriamente a condição feminina, pela via interdisciplinar de outras ciências humanas e sociais.

In this context, he called for a convergence of Historical Demographics, Historical Sociology and Social Anthropology so that, através de novos conceitos operatórios, o protagonismo das mulheres no devir histórico deixe (asse) de permanecer oculto e invisível pela eloquência do silêncio.39 And, in fact, after these internal and external alarms, studies of the history of women multiplied, followed by the history of gender throughout all eras, albeit with greater importance given to the contemporary era. The individual roles they played as queens, princesses, suzerains, diplomats, noblewomen and those from other social strata, women in secular or religious life, anonymous women who worked in the fields or in the cities, women who were wives, mothers and daughters, women legitimated by marriage or living as concubines or in unmarried cohabitation, women with good and bad reputations, were rescued from medieval times.40

38. Published in Coimbra, Instituto de História Económica e Social-Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Coimbra, 1986. Here there are studies for medieval times by José Mattoso, Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho, Leontina Ventura, Maria Ângela V. da Rocha Beirante, Amélia Aguiar Andrade, Irene Freire Nunes, António Resende de Oliveira, José Geraldes Freire, Maria Alegria Fernandes Marques, Isaías da Rosa Pereira, Salvador Dias Arnaut and Humberto Baquero Moreno. 39. “Historians are children of their time and the current time is one of change and ideological confrontation. Therefore, contemporary historiography cannot stand on the sidelines in the face of women’s claims and adopt an attitude of silence. Nor can it neglect the results of the new social history, which has discovered women, though not the female condition as such, through interdisciplinarity with other human and social sciences”; “through new operating concepts, the role of women in history may no longer be left hidden and invisible by the eloquence of silence”. Oliveira, António de. “A presentação”, A Mulher na Sociedade Portuguesa: visão histórica e perspectivas actuais, Coimbra: Instituto de História Económica e Social-Facultade de letras da Universidade de Coimbra, 1986: 10, 11. 40. A summary of the role of women in medieval times can be found in Oliveira, Ana Rodrigues, António Resande de. “A Mulher”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, Mattoso, José, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2011: 300-323. A summary of the historiographic production on this subject appears in Silva, Manuela; Santos Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A. “Women’s and Gender History”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, Mattoso, José, dir., Maria de Lurdes

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These studies, mixed with our historiographic contributions, finally brought us to a doctoral thesis defended in 2004 and published three years later on: A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa (Childrearing in medieval Portuguese society).41 This was very suggestively structured into chapters titled Birth, Growing Up, Learning, Protecting, Falling Ill, Dying and Loving. As mentioned above, this restores to us frameworks of time and space that show us the joys of children being born and the bitter pain of losing them, the natural setting of children growing and being brought up, rituals of baptism and other sacraments that protected them, feelings of love and family affections, and, on a darker note, the diseases that struck them and so often snatched them away from this earthly life.42 It is easy to see how this work is a culmination and confluence of many different studies on everyday life and private life.43 As in the case of women, current historiography has continued to expand our knowledge of the composition of medieval society with new nuances. In her doctoral thesis, Maria Filomena Barros conducted an in-depth examination of the Muslim minority from the 12th to 15th centuries, covering its evolutionary process, its population structure and behaviour, its communes, its property and economic activity, and its social hierarchy and vectors of socialisation. She studied the times and spaces of the Moors, taking an anthropological approach, considering identity and otherness, ethnicity and acculturation across this social group. The central thread running through her work is the desire to know se as conotações culturais dos muçulmanos divergem ou, pelo contrário, convergem com as da demais sociedade portuguesa medieval.44 In Oporto, Sérgio Ferreira’s master’s degree thesis dealt with the equation between the prices of many goods and raw materials and the wages of the rural and urban population of artisans and small traders, providing clues regarding consumption

Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 483-497. 41. Oliveira, Ana Rodrigues. A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa. Lisbon: Teorema, 2007. 42. Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Prefácio”, A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa...: 6. 43. See the summary of the theme in: Oliveira, Ana. A criança, História da vida privada em Portugal. A Idade Media, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores: 260-299. 44. “whether the cultural connotations of the Muslims diverged from or, on the contrary, converged with the rest of medieval Portuguese society”. Barros, Maria Filomena Lopes de. Tempos e espaços de mouros. A minoria muçulmana no reino português. (Séculos XII a XV). Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian- Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 2007: 26. For the Portuguese historiographical literature on , Mozarabic and ethno-religious minorities see Fernandes, Hermenegildo; Rei, António. “Islam and Mozarabs”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 547-569; Barros, Maria Filomena Lopes de. “Etho-Religious Minorities”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 571-589.

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levels and living standards.45 More recently, Arnaldo de Melo46 focused on trades and artisans in the urban context of Oporto, clarifying the forms and means of professional, fraternal, welfare and political association among this social group. In his major work on justice and criminality, Luís Miguel Duarte studied justice and the law, crime and disorder, punishment and pardon, and provided a solid portrayal of the shadows of society in individual and group acts of violence and their perpetrators, agitation and disturbances, enabling us to see the fears of wrong- doers, those who lived on society’s margins and gangs, who disturbed the everyday lives of medieval people.47 We cannot overlook the significant advance and renewed methodological and interpretive questioning of military history, which has revealed to us, in contexts of everyday life in wartime, not only questions such as recruitment, equipping and collection of extra taxes but also problems with quartering and provisioning of armies, hunger and sieges, the scenario of destruction of fields and cities in the wake of war and even beliefs and religious devotion, military ethics, and the behaviour, bravery or fear of men in military operations.48 It is also necessary to take into account the development of other subjects within the scope of the historiography of everyday and private life. One of the most studied subjects is the history of death.49 Hermínia Vilar presented A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval. A Estremadura Portuguesa (1300 a 1500) (The Experience of Death in Medieval Portugal. Portuguese Estremadura (1300 to 1500)) as a master’s dissertation, which was published in 1995.50 Following on from pioneering works such as those by Vovelle, Philipe Ariès, Jacques Chifolleau and Marie-Thérèse Lorcin51, she carried out an in-depth study of the wills of some men and women in Coimbra, Santarém and Torres Vedras. Using the wills as a primary source, she sought to unveil how concern with individual salvation translated into

45. Ferreira, Carlos Sérgio. Preços e salários em Portugal na Baixa idade Média. Porto: Universidade do Porto (Master Dissertation), 2007. 46. Melo, Arnaldo Rui Azevedo. O trabalho e a produção em Portugal na Idade Média. O Porto c. 1320-c. 1415. Braga: Universidade do Minho, 2009. 47. Duarte, Luís Miguel. Justiça e criminalidade no Portugal Medieval (1459-1480). Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 1999. 48. Monteiro, João Gouveia. A Guerra em Portugal nos finais da Idade Média. Lisbon: Editorial Notícias, 1998; Martins, Miguel António Gomes. Para Bellum. Organização e Prática da Guerra em Portugal durante a Idade Média (1245-1367). Coimbra: Universidade de Coimbra, 2007; Barata, Manuel Themudo; Teixeira, Nuno Severiano, dirs. Nova História Militar de Portugal. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2003. For more about the historiography of this subject, see Universidade do Porto (Master Dissertation), Martins, Miguel António Gomes; António Gomes, Monteiro, João Gouveia. “The Medieval Military History”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 459-481. 49. About this theme a notable early work is Martins, Mário: Introdução histórica à vivência do tempo e da morte. Braga: Livraria Cruz, 1969. 50. Vilar, Hermínia. A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval. A Estremadura Portuguesa (1300 a 1500). Redondo: Patrimonia, 1995. 51. Read the historiographical context in which the author situates their work (Vilar, Hermínia. A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval...: 21-33).

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rites of passage, glimpsing the afterlife of medieval people, and the care taken with burial and the perpetuation of memory. She also focussed on the division of wealth by testators and sought to discover their material and spiritual solidarity with family members, friends, clients and servants, the poor and sick, and houses of mercy or other religious institutions. One year on, in O reino dos Mortos na Idade Média Peninsular (The Kingdom of the Dead in the Iberian Middle Ages),52 José Mattoso drew together work written by him and other young researchers, which went deeper into medieval eschatological thought and the rituals and imagination of death, examining a variety of other sources ranging from synods and monastic rules to chronicles, poetry and patristics. In the 21st century, Maria de Lurdes Rosa returned to this area in her doctoral thesis on the founding of funeral chapels and the affirmation that the soul was a legal subject53. Furthermore, on the path of knowledge crossover, archaeologists’ contributions to graves and rites of cremation or burial and anthropologists’ contributions concerning palaeobiology have revealed many different pathologies that are signs of work, diet, age and life events, as well as funereal rites and beliefs in the afterlife.54 In her doctoral thesis, Mário Barroca studies the relationship between epigraphy and death in epitaphs, which are likewise public and, through writing and art, reveal the faith many Christians had in another life after death and also their desire for perpetuation in the earthly world.55 Accordingly, many works by art historians, of greater or lesser extent, on tombs suggest appealing propositions for reading the artistic grammar of commemorative arches and plaques. Decoding the iconography of sculptures, paintings, heraldry, symbols and signs found in them gives us a more in-depth understanding of the eschatological thought of medieval people, the marks that identified them and individualised their lives and families and their desire to overcome annihilation by

52. Mattoso, José. O reino dos Mortos na Idade Média Peninsular. Lisbon: Edições João Sá da Costa, 1996. 53. Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “As almas herdeiras”, Fundação das capelas fúnebres e afirmação da alma como sujeito de direito (Portugal. 1400-1521). Lisbon: Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas-Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 2005. The theme of death was also evoked by Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “A morte e o Além”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 402-417. 54. Among others, see Barroca, Mário Jorge. Necrópoles e Sepulturas Medievais de Entre Douro e Minho (século V a XV). Porto: Universidade do Porto (Master Dissertation), 1987; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Cenas de passatempo e lamentação na escultura funerária medieval portuguesa (séc. XIII a XV)”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras, 2/14 (1997): 657-686; Cunha, Eugénia Maria Guedes Pinto Antunes da. Paleobiologia das populações medievais portuguesas: os casos de Fão e S. João de Almedina. Coimbra: Universidade de Coimbra (PhD Dissertation), 1994. 55. Barroca, Mário Jorge. Epigrafia Medieval Portuguesa (862-1422). Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian- Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 2000: I and II; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Memórias”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 418-456.

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death through remembrance of the individual and the lineage by generations to come and down the centuries.56 Knowledge of spirituality and the medieval religious behaviour of the clergy and, hitherto less-known, the laity, have been largely expanded and ideals of saintliness for men and women have been studied, showing us how religious mentalities have evolved over the centuries. These spiritual and devotional experiences of medieval society were set out in the first volume of the collective workHistória Religiosa de Portugal (Religious History of Portugal) published in 2000 and in Dicionário de História Religiosa de Portugal (Dictionary of the Religious History of Portugal).57 As a counterpoint, there were important developments in some facets of the everyday material life of medieval people through interdisciplinary contributions involving the methodology and scientific advances of various social and human sciences and, in particular, greater emphasis on medieval archaeology. One major subject was diet and the medieval dining table. Following on from Salvador Dias Arnaut’s pioneering work, historians such as Iria Gonçalves, Maria José Santos and Maria Helena Coelho,58 together with many other academics, have written on food from bread to wine, from meat to fish, from vegetables to fruit and the medieval diet, cooking and meal preparation, culinary tastes and fashions, recipes and dieting books, the running of the kitchen, and rural or urban frameworks for the diet of social groups. The dining table has been unveiled and serving sets and servers have been made known together with dining ceremony, etiquette and ritual. Everyday meals and festive banquets have been considered as well as the art of dining in literature and art. This enabled the publication, during the current decade, of the collective work A mesa dos Reis de Portugal (The Table of the Kings of Portugal),59 which covers medieval and modern times and deals with topics such as Casa e ofícios da mesa (“The home and trades of the table”), A mesa dos reis. Espaços, Objectos e utências (“The table of kings. Spaces, objects and usages”), Os reis à

56. There are many books and articles on the tumularia. A summary can be obtained from some chapters devoted to the subject in: Pereira, Paulo, dir., História de Arte Portuguesa. Lisbon: Temas e Debates, 1995: I, II. 57. Jorge, Ana Maria C.M.; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A., coords. Formação e Limites da Cristandade. Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2000; História Religiosa de Portugal, Carlos A. Moreira Azevedo. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2000-2001. The medieval spirituality is dealt with generically in Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “Sagrado, devoções e religiosidade”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores: 376-401. 58. Armaut, Salvador Dias. A arte de comer em Portugal na Idade Média (Introdução a “O Livro de Cozinha” da Infanta D. Maria de Portugal). Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 1986; Gonçalves, Iria. “Acerca da alimentação medieval”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa, 4/2 (1978): 441-458; Gonçalves, Iria. “A alimentação”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2011: 226-259; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. A Alimentação em Portugal na Idade Média. Fontes. Cultura. Sociedade. Coimbra: Universidade de Coimbra, 1997; Santos, Maria José. Jantar e cear na corte de D. João III. Coimbra: Centro de História da Sociedade e da Cultura- Palimage Editores, 2002; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Apontamentos sobre a comida e a bebida do campesinato coimbrão em tempos medievais”, Homens, Espaços e Poderes. Séculos XI-XV. Notas do viver social. Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1990: I, 9-22; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Ao correr do vinho. Governança e desgovernança dos homens”. Portefólio, 1 (2005): 112-121. 59. Buescu, Ana Isabel; Felismino, David, coords. A Mesa dos reis de Portugal. Ofícios, consumos, cerimónias e representações (séculos XIII-XVIII). Lisbon: Temas e Debates-Círculo de Leitores, 2011.

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mesa: cerimónias e etiquetas (“Kings at table: ceremonies and etiquette”), Os alimentos (“Food”), and Imagens e representações da mesa (“Images and representations of the table”). Great emphasis has also been placed on the interplay between dietary habits and religions, with careful examination of the dietary precepts of certain monastic rules or ’fat’ and ’thin’ days, meat or fish, fasting and abstinence for all Christians, together with the dietary rules of Muslim and Jewish believers.60 Our ancestors’ living space has also become better understood by historians with the support of architects and archaeologists. Maria da Conceição Falcão, Sílvio Conde and Maria Luísa Trindade61 have provided us with studies that focus on current construction, especially in urban environments, and the materials used, sizes, compartmentalisation and their material value and prestige. José Custódio Vieira da Silva, an art historian, looked deeper into the subject of royal and noble palaces62 and Mário Barroca focused on lordly residences, many of which were fortified, with very significant archaeological contributions.63 Based on these works we can better understand how the simplest folk lived in a single room, dominated by the fireplace, providing both heat and light, where they ate and slept, while the wealthiest lived in roomy houses or even palaces with other refinements such as separate kitchens which even had chimneys, dining rooms and private bedrooms as well as rooms for other domestic tasks and even spaces specifically for hygiene. Alongside food and the home, clothing has continued to be studied, based on knowledge of fabrics, firstly through study of written sources and nowadays also through conservation and techniques and sciences and detailed reconstruction of clothing from literature and painting.64

60. For the table and food in the 12th to the 16th centuries, see the studies by Rita Costa Gomes, Ana Maria S. A. Rodrigues, Isabel dos Guimarães Sá, Iria Gonçalves, Ana Isabel Buescu, Maria José Palla, Maria Adelaide Miranda and Luís Correia de Sousa. 61. Among others, Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. “Habitação popular urbana, no Norte de Portugal Medievo: uma tipologia? Ou um modo de construir?”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 15/1-2 (2001): 381- 432; Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. “Sobre a casa urbana do centro e Sul de Portugal nos fins da Idade Média”. Arqueologia Medieval, 5 (1997): 243-265; Conde, Manuel Sílvio. “A Casa”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 54-77; Trindade, Luísa. A casa corrente em Coimbra. Dos finais da Idade Média aos inícios da época moderna. Coimbra: Câmara Municipal, 2002. 62. Silva, José Custódio Vieira da. Os Paços Medievais Portugueses. Lisbon: Instituto Português do Património Arquitectónico, 1995; Silva, José Custódio. “O Paço”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 78-97. 63. Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Em torno da residência senhorial fortificada. Quatro torres medievais na região de Amares”. Revista de História, 9 (1989): 9-53; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Torres, Casas-Torres ou Casas Fortes. A concepção do espaço de habitação da pequena e média nobreza na Baixa Idade Média (séculos XII-XV)”. Revista de História das Ideias, 19 (1997): 39-103. For progress in Portuguese medieval archeology, in various fields, see Fernandes, Isabel Cristina Ferreira; Macias, Santiago. “Islamic and Christian Medieval Archaeology”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 153-177. 64. Among others, Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. “Roupas de cama e roupas de corpo nos testamentos de Guimarães (1250-1300)”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras, 2/14 (1997): 33-63; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz, “Homens e Negócios”, Ócio e Negócio. Coimbra: Inatel, 1998: 127-202; Palla, Maria

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Important contributions from literary and artistic studies, especially iconography,65 have also given rise to new progress in the history of the body, sexuality, gestures, cultures and mentalities in medieval times. José Mattoso himself has given seminars and directed postgraduate studies of these areas.66 While Mário Martins was very early in his study of satire, laughter, parody, allegories and symbols in medieval literature, just as he had even earlier examined pilgrimage routes and miracles,67 Luís Krus and others continued to explore sexual satire, the cult of relics, the experience of time and the representation of space.68 The participants in the conference on the body and gesture in medieval civilization also narrowed down the approaches to these subjects, covering bodies and gestures seen in names, novels, treatises and tapestries, observing the sacredness of gestures or ritual aspects of the body in music and dance; and capturing body language, allegories and symbols, gestures, smiles and taunts in lyrical poetry and doctrinal works in medieval times.69 In the same way, following on from António José Saraiva’s outstanding História da Cultura em Portugal (History of Culture in Portugal),70 research has diversified into subjects such as troubadour poetry, chronicles, chivalric romances, hagiographies and books of miracles, books of hours and confession manuals, making it possible to reconstruct palace and courtesan cultural settings together with teachings from doctrine that reached the community of believers through clerical preaching,

José. Do essencial e do supérfluo, estudo lexical do traje e adornos em Gil Vicente. Lisbon: Editorial Estampa, 1992; Palla, Maria José. Traje e pintura. Grão Vasco e o retábulo da Sé de Viseu. Lisbon: Editorial Estampa, 1999; Nascimento, Aires Nascimento, coord.; Palla, Maria José. Trilogia Vicentina. Léxico do Traje e Adornos no Teatro de Gil Vicente. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2006; Sequeira, Joana. Produção têxtil em Portugal nos Finais da Idade Média. Porto-Paris: Faculdade de Letras da Universidade do Porto-École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, 2012. 65. Advances in these studies are mirrored in Catalogs: Miranda, Maria Adelaide; Nascimento, Aires Augusto, coords. A Iluminura em Portugal. Identidade e Influências. Lisbon: Ministério da Cultura-Biblioteca Nacional, 1999; Nasamento Aires, Augusto. A Imagem do Tempo. Livros Manuscritos Ocidentais. Lisbon: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, 2000. 66. As summaries, see the chapters by Mattoso, José. “O corpo, a saúde e a doença”, and Oliveira, António. “A sexualidade”, both in História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 348-374 and 324-347 respectively. 67. Martins, Mário. Peregrinações e Livros de Milagres na nossa Idade Média. Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras, 1951; Martins, Mário. Alegorias, símbolos e exemplos morais da literatura medieval portuguesa. Lisbon: Edições Brotéria, 1975; Martins, Mário. A sátira na literatura medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XIV). Lisbon: Instituto de Cultura Portuguesa, 1977; Martins, Mário. O riso, o sorriso e a paródia na literatura portuguesa quatrocentista. Lisbon: Instituto de Cultura Portuguesa, 1978. 68. Krus, Luís. “Celeiro e relíquias: o culto quatrocentista dos Mártires de Marrocos”. Studium Generale. Estudos Contemporâneos, 6 (1984): 21-42; Krus, Luís. “A vivência medieval do tempo”, A construção do passado medieval. Textos inéditos e publicados, Luís Krus, ed. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011; Krus, Luís; Pimenta, Berta Martinha; Parnes, Leonardo. “Dois aspectos da sátira nos cancioneiros galaico- portugueses: ’Sodomíticos e Cornudos’”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras de Lisbon, 4/2 (1978): 113-128. 69. Buescu, Ana Isabel; Sousa, Joâo Silva de; Miranda Maria Adelaide, coords. O corpo e o gesto na civilização medieval. Lisbon: Edições Colibri, 2006. 70. Saraiva, António José. História da Cultura em Portugal. Lisbon: Jornal do Fôro, 1950-1952.

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imposing models and codes of belief, devotion and morality, which moulded social and religious behaviour.71 Studies have also been carried out (and we will list the topics so as not to be over-extensive) on male and female names, broken down into personal names, patronymics and nicknames, and names of country and city folk. Notable among these are the studies by Iria Gonçalves.72 There have also been studies of games, entertainment, festivals and conviviality.73 Echoing these focusses once again, several studies were brought together in 2004 in Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval: Imaginário, Representação e Práticas (Medieval Studies. Every Medieval Life: the Imagination, Representation and Practices).74 These used many different sources (chansonniers, lyrical poetry in praise of the Virgin

71. See the historiographical development of these themes in Amado, Teresa, dir.; Correia, Ângela; Sobral, Cristina; Videira, Graça. “The study of Literary Texts”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 87-109; Ferreira, Manuel Pedro. “Medieval Music in Portugal within its interdisciplinar”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 111-129; Botelho, Maria Leonor. “The study of Medieval Art”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950- 2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 131-151; Meirinhos, José Francisco. “Intellectual History and the Scholars”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 349-379; Oliveira, António Resende de. “Literary and Historiographical Production”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisbon: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 381-398. See also: Lanciani Giulia; Tavani, Giuseppe, coords. Dicionário da Literatura Medieval Galega e Portuguesa. Lisbon: Caminho, 1993. 72. Gonçalves, Iria. “Amostra de antroponímia alentejana do século XV”. Do Tempo e da História, 4 (1971): 173-212; Gonçalves, Iria. “Do uso do patronímico na Baixa Idade Média”, Carlos Alberto Ferreira de Almeida-In Memoriam, Mário Jorge Barroca, coord. Porto: Faculdade de Letras, 1999: I, 347-363; Gonçalves, Iria. “Entre o masculino e o feminino: sistemas de identificação em finais do século XV”,Em Louvor da Linguagem. Homenagem a Maria Leonor Carvalhão Buescu, Maria Fernanda Abreu, Maria Idalina Resina Rodrigues, Maria Leonor Machado de Sousa, dirs., Lisbon: Edições Colibri, 2003: 141-158; Gonçalves, Iria. “O corpo e o nome-o nome e o gesto (notas de antroponímia medieval)”, O corpo e o gesto na civilização medieval, Ana Isabel Buescu, João Silva de Sousa, Maria Adelaide Miranda, coords. Lisbon: Edições Colibri, 2006: 39-56; Gonçalves, Iria. “O nome”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores: 198-225. 73. Campos, Flávio de. “Jogos e temática lúdica em Portugal ao final da Idade Média”.BUCEMA. Bulletin du Centre d’Études médiévales d’Auxerre. Hors-série, n. 2. 24 January 2008. 16 December 2014. ; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Festa e Sociabilidade na Idade Média”, Ócio e Negócio. Coimbra: Inatel, 1998: 47-84; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “A festa- a convivialidade”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 144-169; Alves, Ana Maria. As entradas régias portuguesas. Uma visão de conjunto. Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1986; Gonçalves, Iria. “As festas do Corpus Christi do Porto na segunda metade do século XV: participação do concelho”. Estudos Medievais, 4-5 (1985): 3-23; Gomes, Rita Costa. “Sobre a festa e o rito na corte medieval”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 9-22; Oliveira, Belmira Fernanda Gonçalves de. “Os serões reais na Idade Média”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 121-156; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A. “Contributo para o estudo das festas na Idade Média Portuguesa”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 103-120; Tavares, Maria José Ferro. “A festa, uma ruptura no quotidiano do homem medieval”. Revista Portuguesa de História, 31/1 (1996): 131-155. 74. Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Silva, José Custodio Vieira de, coords. Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval: Imaginário, Representação e Práticas. Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2004.

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Mary, isolated documents, recipes, illuminated manuscripts, pottery toys and human skeletons) and a range of the latest methodologies to illuminate specific aspects of everyday life or the ideological suppositions behind them. As the author of the preface wrote, what we learn from them is

o ser humano, dividido entre o corpo e o espírito, entre o sagrado e o profano, entre a norma e o desvio, entre a representação e a realidade. Aspectos fundamentais como a sexualidade e o erotismo, a alimentação e o lazer, a doença, a devoção religiosa são elucidados, mas sempre tendo presente que estavam condicionados, nas suas formas e interpretações, pela hierarquia social predominante e pelas concepções em vigor sobre a natureza, o homem e Deus. 75

The confluence of Portuguese studies of everyday and private subjects brings us, in the present day, to the study of biographies. Biographies of kings, queens, princes and princesses, together with reconstructions of royal courts in various medieval times. While biographies of all and any man or woman famous in society, for whatever reason, are now in fashion, the fact is that biography, as a historiographic genre, only began on solid scientific foundations in our country at the beginning of the 21st century, as a result of the momentum and drawing together of various strands of history from the end of the previous century. Biography, telling the story of a man or a women, whether individually or collectively and in society, is a subject of choice for converging analyses of everyday life or unique and unrepeatable events, shared or extraordinary times of celebration and grief, and also for perceiving intimate and private settings and relationships or public roles and spaces. In her thesis, A Corte do reis de Portugal no final da Idade Média (The Court of the Kings of Portugal at the end of the Middle Ages), which Rita Costa Gomes defended in 1994,76 she not only gave us knowledge of courtly people, spaces and services, but also brought to life everyday court usages and ceremonies, large-scale ceremonies and occasional rituals. In their study of the first three kings of Portugal, Maria Alegria Fernandes Marques and João Soalheiro77 paid attention to their family members and servants, while travelling and in residence in palaces but they particularly set out the framework for the king’s table as well as court fashion, entertainment and culture. In the same way, all the historians who wrote biographies of the first and second dynasty of Portuguese kings published by Círculo de Leitores,78 in addition to

75. “the human being, divided between body and spirit, between sacred and profane, between the right and wrong path, between representation and reality. Fundamental aspects such as sexuality and eroticism, food and leisure, disease and religious devotion are elucidated but always bearing in mind that their forms and interpretations were conditioned by the predominant social hierarchy and by current conceptions of nature, mankind and God.” Andrade, Amélia Aguiar. “Nota Liminar”, Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval...: 10. 76. Gomes, Rita Costa. A Corte do reis de Portugal no final da Idade Média. Lisbon: Difel, 1995. 77. Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes; Soalheiro, João. A Corte dos primeiros reis de Portugal. Afonso Henriques, Sancho I, Afonso II. Gijon: Ediciones Trea, 2009. 78. Mattoso, José. D. Afonso Henriques. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Branco, Maria João Violante. D. Sancho I. O filho do Fundador. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Vilar, Hermínia. D. Afonso II. Um rei sem tempo. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Fernandes, Hermenegildo. D. Sancho II. Tragédia. Lisbon: Círculo de

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showing them in the family and court context, sought to unveil ties of affection with close or more distant relatives, find out about legitimate or illegitimate feelings of love, discover signs of complicity and friendship with faithful vassals, officials and servants, or hatred and vengeance towards those who opposed them and their enemies. Many of them also illustrated aspects of their itinerant or sedentary everyday lives in palaces, castles or monasteries, examining service in the chamber, at table and in the chapel, discovering court tastes, fashions, entertainment and culture, and revealing ceremonies and more festive days on which military and political feats were commemorated, or the royal family’s births, marriages or deaths, royal entries and processions, acts and mechanisms of propaganda and legitimisation of royalty. They all examined the kings’ deaths and some focused on their physical or psychological diseases, as well as their wills, graves and their desire and actions taken to perpetuate their memory. The same collection also published biographies of the queens and some princesses,79 which went into greater depth on the matter of sentiments. The authors revealed the roles of such women as daughters, wives and mothers together with their duty to act as the head and model for damsels and ladies at court, as ladies and suzerains, as agents of influence and diplomacy in domestic and foreign affairs, as promoters of social work and the common good through works of charity and protection of the destitute and supporting fraternal, welfare and religious institutions. Echoes of the everyday and private lives of their subjects are also repeatedly found in the two briefest collections of biographies of kings, queens and princesses sponsored by the Portuguese Academy of History.80

Leitores, 2006; Ventura, Leontina. D. Afonso III. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. D. Dinis. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. D. Afonso IV (1291- 1357). Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Pimenta, Cristina. D. Pedro I. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Gomes, Rita Costa. D. Fernando. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. João I, que re-colheu Boa Memória. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Duarte, Luís Miguel. D. Duarte. Requiem por um rei triste. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Gomes, Saul António. D. Afonso V. O Africano. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Fonseca, Luís Adão da. D. João II. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2005. 79. Amaral, Luís Carlos; Barroca, Mário Jorge. A condessa-rainha. Teresa. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes; Dias, Nuno Pizarro; Nogueira, Bernardo de Sá; Varandas, José; Oliveira, António Resende de. As primeiras rainhas. Mafalda de Mouriana, Dulce de Barcelona e Aragão, Urraca de Castela, Mécia Lopes de Haro, Beatriz Afonso. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Andrade, Maria Filomena. Rainha Santa, mãe exemplar. Isabel de Aragão. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Menino, Vanda Lourenço; Costa, Adelaide Pereira Millán da. A rainha, as infantas e a aia. Beatriz de Castela, Branca de Castela, Constança Manuel, Inês de Castro. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Baleiras, Isabel de Pina. Uma Rainha Inesperada. Leonor Teles. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Silva, Manuela Santos. A rainha inglesa de Portugal. Filipa de Lencastre. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A. As Tristes Rainhas. Leonor de Aragão. Isabel de Coimbra. Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2012; Sá, Isabel dos Guimarães. De Princesa a Rainha-Velha. Leonor de Lencastre. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores, 2013. 80. The biographies of the Portuguese kings from the first and second dynasties are englobed inHistória dos Reis de Portugal. Da fundação à perda da Independência, Manuela Mendoça da Cruz, coord. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-Quidnovi, 2010: I. The biographies of the princesses and queens by the same editors came out in 2011 and covers the following from the medieval age: Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. Filipa de Lencastre. A inglesa rainha. 1360-1415. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. Leonor de Portugal. A imperatriz. 1434-1467. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Costa, Paula Maria. D. Maria. A formosíssima. 1313-1357. Lisbon:

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In this second decade of the 21st century, we have now arrived at a culmination of studies of everyday and private life arising from the development of several subjects of medieval Portuguese historiography. It can clearly be seen that these lesser-known or less visible facets of the past of men and women in medieval times have been revealed by the multiplicity and cross-referencing of sources (written, documentary or literary sources, archaeological and artistic sources) and by deepening knowledge and expanding horizons through interdisciplinary studies that cut across knowledge areas and call upon various social and human sciences as well as the aforementioned exact sciences. We do not think the subject has been exhausted. While in Portugal exploration of written and artistic sources has been more intense, other viewpoints, questions and approaches could still be pursued in analysing them and there will be no end to the new and surprising knowledge produced by medieval archaeology. Perhaps it is now time for Portuguese historians to reflect on the ways and means of representing and making these historic subjects known through textbooks and manuals for various levels of education; scientific debates on historic recreations; or questioning of its message and adapting it for different audiences and media. The settings and contents of the everyday life of medieval people are subjects that appeal to and challenge the curiosity of present-day people. We therefore call for further, lively debate, with all due pertinence and intensity, and a broad and inevitable questioning of the writing of history and the writing of historical fiction.

Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Freitas, Isabel Vaz de. D. Isabel de Coimbra. Insígne rainha. 1432-1455. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Freitas, Isabel Vaz de. D. Joana. A excelente senhora. 1462-1530. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes. D. Dulce de Aragão. Rainha fecunda. 1160(?)-1198. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes. D. Matilde, D. Teresa, D. Mafalda e D. Sancha-Primeiras infantas de Portugal, 1149(?)-1296. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Armando Alberto. D. Beatriz. A princesa rejeitada. 1373-1420. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Armando Alberto. D. Leonor Teles. A flor da altura. 1350-1405. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Maria Odete Sequeira. D. Beatriz. Mulher de ferro. 1429-1506. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Maria Odete Sequeira. D. Isabel de Portugal. Duquesa de Borgonha. 1397-1471. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História- QuidNovi, 2011; Mendonça, Manuela. D. Leonor. Fundadora das Misericórdias. 1458-1525. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Pimenta, Maria Cristina. D. Isabel de Trastâmara. A rainha desejada. 1470-1498. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Pimenta, Maria Cristina. D. Joana. Princesa e santa. 1452-1490. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. D. Inês de Castro. Colo de Graça. (?)-1355. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. D. Isabel de Aragão. Rainha Santa. 1270(?)-1336. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Veloso, Maria Teresa Nobre. D. Urraca e D. Beatriz, Construtoras da paz. 1187-1220. 1244-1303(?). Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Ventura, Margarida Garcez; Araújo, Julieta. D. Leonor de Aragão. A triste rainha. 1402(?)-1445. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Vicente, Maria da Graça. D. Filipa. A senhora de Odivelas. 1437- 1493. Lisbon: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 25-45 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.01

MEDIEVAL STUDIES IN CHILE. REVIEW OF THEIR FORMATION AND PUBLICATIONS

Luis Rojas Donat Universidad del Bío Bío Chile

Date of receipt: 23rd of January, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 16th of December, 2014

Abstract

The article presents a review of medieval studies in Chile, in first place explains that we are located in a very distant position geographically speaking, which determines the point of view that we have of European issues. Also requires the epistemological perspective that explores the diverse subjects of medieval history, in accordance with the general and the specific view. Since the 1950’s decade, at the University of Chile, medieval studies have been created, and the diversification is produced at the end of the century, not only in Chilean universities located in Santiago but also in provinces. Followed by the creation of the Chilean Society of Medieval Studies and at last a bibliographic Appendix of the main papers published by the Chilean medievalists

Keywords

Publications, Chilean medievalists, European History, Middle Ages.

Capitalia Verba

Editiones, Chilenses Medii Aevi studiosi, Historia Europae, Medium Aevum.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 47-65 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.02 47 48 Luis Rojas Donat

Medieval studies in Chile originate from a part of history that, in Chile, is called “Universal History”, this is not only limited to the Western History or more precisely to the “History of Western Europe” but also to other cultures whose geographical origin is far from Europe. At universities where history courses for teachers are taught, history is divided into three main areas: First, Universal History which includes the history of the classical, medieval, modern and contemporary world, and also the Middle East and the Far West. Second, History of America, including the pre-Hispanic, discovery, conquest, colony, republican and contemporary periods. Finally, the history of Chile, which provides the same periods as the previous one: pre-Hispanic, discovery, conquest, colonial, republican and contemporary. The last periods are also titled: “Chile XIX century” and “Chile XX century”. This affiliation is not surprising because Chilean Medieval History has been cultivated from the widest perspective of Western European history and from this geographical area relationships with other civilizations have been established. This western perspective constitudes the background in which the History of America and the History of Chile are inserted. The previous link receives its explanation and foundation in the cultural heritage of America. Chile has adpoted the same condition, which is currently a racially mixed society from a biological point of view, however, the European cultural heritage predominates through Spain and during the nineteenth century through France. A reasonable and legitimate question often arises from foreign environments, especially European: Is there any reason to study the history of the Middle Ages in America, and particularly in Chile, a small corner of the world and the West, the finis terrae occidentis? It means, seeing the Middle Ages from outside Europe, as it was the purpose of a conference organized by the Centre d’Etudes Médiévales d’Auxerre in 2006 (Le moyen âge d’ailleurs vu), in other words, from our perspective. Le moyen âge d’ailleurs, The Middle Ages seen from outside, from the antipodes in Chile, whose past has no direct relationship with the Middle Ages. Our relationship should be placed in the european civilization and its cultural heritage from which we participate as heirs. This is the starting point for the researches we do in Chile. We believe that medieval history and its culture belongs to us too. To understand this, as an example, we mention the medieval chivalric world and its importance in terms of knowledge and thus understand the Spanish conqueror who came to America with the missions of conquest; or, how the missions, which were carried out by the barbarians in the West —V and VIII centuries— help us understand the tradition in which conversion missions in America are included. The extension of the Spanish medieval institutions in America has been addressed by generations of historians. The study of religion in America can not go without the late Middle Ages origins. Convictions like these encouraged the pioneers in terms of interest in the Middle Ages in Chile: Juan Gómez Millas, who taught ancient and medieval history, Mario Góngora, who dealt with the history of America and Chile and Héctor Herrera Cajas, who cultivated the actual medieval and Byzantine history. From this perspective, our view of the medieval history is much like what the Latins called consideratio, whose first meaning is “observe the stars closely “; this

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 47-65 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.02 Medieval Studies in Chile 49

concept has the virtue of pointing out the action to examine, study and meditate on something with care and maturity. We want to define our point of view as “thoughful”, a sort of thoughtful history because we tend to study something to meditate on before thinking about the whole, diversity within unity. Our studies are never confined to the subject itself, they make sense for us in the wide context of civilization. To illustrate this point, let us conjure up a figure of what our master, Héctor Herrera Cajas, used to present this particular view which, at the same time, we use to identify our approach to the medieval world, the medievalist, he said, must be placed before the study object as an acute spectator faces a splendid tapestry; at first glance, taking into account the whole picture and its own topic, landscapes, characters and colours. But this requires a second one, in which the observer should get closer to the material in order to examine in detail the weave, the knots and their complexity, the variety of different coloured yarns that together combine into the work, the image. However, this observation in detail does not allow to appreciate the whole composition, which only reappears in a third look, more distant, including the previous ones, and therefore, it is more complete and more accurate of the tapestry itself. Continuing this tradition, the Chilean medievalism studies specific problems, trying not to lose the universal perspective in which every historical problem gets its genuine explanation and understanding. It is the reason why the issues of our works appear, presented in a general way, in comparison to most of the studies of our Argentine and Brazilian neighbours. Researches in medieval history in Chile contain an ongoing tension between universality and specificity. Likewise, the Middle Ages emerges before our eyes, like a vast and fruitful past from Europe and the West, but in which exchanges and influences with interlocking relationships are connected; the Eastern world represented in the world of steppes and the gravitation of the great civilizations of the Middle East, specially Persia, the Byzantine world and the Muslim civilization. We can not deny that certain problems of a Middle Ages researcher are based on our geographical distance. For years, the difficult access to the latest generation bibliography was surpassed by the eager curiosity of the teachers previoulsy mentioned, who were in charge of the early medieval book collections and acquiring important source files and documents related to the medieval world, like Germaniae Monumenta Historica, The Greek and Latin Patrology, the Muratori collection, the Monumenta Henricina, among others. It is essential for us to be part of international conferences in which we confront our attention vu d’ailleurs-with that second look, that is close and careful, which was alluded previolusly and associated with European historians. Today the gap has been reduced by the ease of communications. Several of the young researchers are doing their PhD researches in Europe: Spain (universities of Seville, Salamanca, Alcala de Henares, Spain) and France (University of Poitiers) are, in this case, the host countries.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 47-65 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.02 50 Luis Rojas Donat

1. Formation of medieval studies in Chile

It is not possible to revise studies in Chile without identifying the starting point of this interest. Héctor Herrera Cajas who, by the early 50s, began teaching Ancient and Medieval History at the Pedagogical Institute of the University of Chile and the Institute of History of the Catholic University of Valparaiso, whose enthusiasm and skills were transferred to nearly all current specialists in ancient and medieval history. He was very prolific when teaching disciples because he was a teacher who acted in a way never seen before. He developed an almost unknown part in Chilean History, the Byzanatine, from the moment he encountered the Greek Professor Fotios Malleros hired by the University of Chile. Having received a historical formation with an institutional trend, his knownledge led him into other areas that influenced his task as a researcher: the symbolism of power, international relations of the Byzantine Empire, peripheral cultures of the Eurasian steppe, Byzantine art, fields which he has been a pioneer in Chile; from the Western Europe, he was interested in the French and Spanish high-medieval history, particularly the discourse of power. His interest in medieval world emerged from being in contact, as an assistant, with Mario Góngora del Campo. He did not cultivate the history of Europe in terms of research, because his choice was the history of colonial America; but he was a very educated man, and he was aware of the historiographical developments through his contacts with European historians. First with the wisdom of Mario Góngora, but then with the exceptional intellectual training and knowledge of ancient and modern languages from Héctor Herrera, medieval studies were developed in Chile. From their courses, both in Santiago and Valparaiso, a group of young researchers emerged who got positions in universities within the country. His sudden death in 1997, at the age of 67, left a gap difficult to fill, and with it the opportunity to put in writing all his wisdom was frustated, especially his historical thought Among the disciples he left, it is possible to consider some who are currently working for universities within the country: Italo Sources Bardelli at the Metropolitan University of Educational Sciences (former Pedagogical Institute of the University of Chile); Humberto Bermudez Estay at the University of Concepción (R.I.P.) succeeded by Luis Rojas Donat there and at the University of the Bío Bío; José Marín Riveros at the Pontifical Catholic University of Valparaiso and the Pontifical Catholic University of Chile; Paola Corti Badia, Diego Melo and Roberto Carrasco Soto at the University Adolfo Ibañez; Zamora Patricio Navia at the Maritime University of Chile and University of Mar; Angel Molina Gordo at Gabriela Mistral University. Although Maria Eugenia Góngora Dias, Herrera´s daughter, was not his disciple, it is impornat to mention that she has studied medieval literature and, particularly, female literary culture with special emphasis on the figure of Hildegard von Bingen. This first generation was able to transmit its enthusiasm to a second generation of very young researchers who are making their way with their studies: Ximena Illanes at the Pontifical Catholic University of Chile; José Miguel de Toro at the Catholic

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University of Santisima Conception; Claudio Riveros at the University Andrés Bello; Jorge Barros from the High School; Amelia Herrera at the University of La Serena, who is the only one that follows in the footsteps of his father. Medieval studies in Chile were organized due to the appeal made in 1992 by Luis Rojas Donat for the First Symposium of Medieval Studies held at the University of the Bío Bío in Chillan. On that occasion the Sociedad Chilena de Estudios Medievales (Chilean Society of Medieval Studies) was established having as Honorary President Héctor Herrera Boxes, Luis Rojas Donat as president and José Marín Riveros as secretary. The academic body remains the Colloquium that is still performed in Chillan every two years. But another one in a seminar style was added with roundtables including historiographical and historical subjects called Concilium. Currently, the Sociedad Chilena de Estudios Medievales has several medievalists associated and a dozen researchers who, although do not specifically devote their studies to the Middle Ages, also participate in the talks with topics linked to related areas.

2. Lines of research

Medieval studies in Chile are due to the conditions of the country and its members. Of course, there are no clearly defined lines of research that may be associated with universities, schools and institutes. The explanations that immediately arise from that situation are in the position of finis terrae of Chile with regard to the Western world, geographically distant from the region where the conditions of the Middle ages existed. It is also difficult to get those sources of information to study the Middle ages because of the distance barrier. Finally, those interested in cultivating the knowledge of medieval times have to face the problem of foreign languages and their learning, first, Latin, Greek, and language and then the main languages spoken in Western culture, tools that are indispensable to access to relevant information For this reason, it is necessary to recall the suggestion that the founder of the Chilean medievalism, PhD. Hector Herrera Cajas, made in 1980 to a small group of students of the Institute of History of the Pontifical Catholic University of Valparaíso, in the sense that each of them should devote attention to studying languages that allowed them to take on specialized studies in a specific area. It must be said that this requirement was somewhat surprising because it limited, as it still limits, those who are interested in medieval studies. In Chile, the knowledge of languages is still a great limitation to develop good historical studies. On the other hand, the medievalism and its study fields in Chile focused on just some clear areas while others were not included. Those areas remained in the hands of each of the interested parties, being difficult to find schools from a teacher, but individual initiatives that the early medievalists have been able to achieve with

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the dedication and passion that the few disciples have conceived of their task as researchers. The very limited access that still exists in Chilean universities to continue with researches that began during undergraduate and postgraduate training is another reason that explains the process of development of medieval studies in Chile. The primacy of studies about Chile and America, as well as the imperialism of Political Science can be considered factors that impede the development of medievalism in Chile. The structure of the Chilean university with researchers who are professors with many working hours who cannot form specialized groups easily does not encourage the research in medieval history. However, we can refer succinctly to some thematic developments by some medievalists who have persisted in their vocation. Italo Fuentes Bardelli, Mr. Herrera´s assistant for several years, followed a line of study with a tendency towards popular culture, the monastic ideal, the figure of the great Hildegarda von Bingen, and finally the music. In this last field, Fuentes created a medieval music band called Kalenda Maia which has been well-known in Europe for its quality and fidelity. He is the most knowledgeable about medieval music in Chile. The one who writes these lines, without having been Herrera´s assistant, got his training that finally influenced his research. He started with the conquest of America and then turned to the medieval world to understand the culture of the conquerors. Perhaps and because of this, it is currently the only one in charge of medieval law. Byzantine studies have been dealt by José Marín Riveros to whom Hector Herrera trained directly. When he died, Marín continued with his Chair at the Catholic University of Valparaíso. He followed the line of byzantinism which had been dealt by Herrera, becoming the only valid reference in Chile in that field of study. At the same time, Marin has studied the ideology of the crusade thoroughly. Diego Melo Carrasco, recommended by Hector Herrera, worked on the study of the . He went into the studies of the in Spain since his undergraduate training, but his successful specialization made him be the best current Arabist that Chile has. Many of his works are concerned with border issues in the Al-Andalus. Paola Corti Badia, influenced by Herrera in the history of art, particularly, the study of images, continued with the artistic line reaching a high level in a study on semiotics and images in the books of hours. Currently, she works with Fernando Guzmán in the study of Heraldry and the American Church iconography. The history of power has also been developed by some Chilean medievalists: Patricio Zamora Navia has gone into the anthropology of power through the representations of itself in the Carolingian period. This training enabled him to conclude his doctoral thesis to expand this area to the viceregal courts of the modern era. José Manuel Cerda Costabal has studied the Plantagenet and its political history and the beginnings of parliamentarism in England.

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The history of the medieval Spain, especially the Kingdom of Leon and its Queen Urraca, has been on the subject of numerous studies conducted by Angel Molina Gordo, who is well-known as a medievalist in Spain. José Miguel de Toro, a little younger but with a promising future, trained by José Marin, decided to work on the area of Visigothic Spain. His doctoral studies at Poitiers allowed him to open up to other areas of the early medieval Medievalism. This researcher takes part of a younger generation which has incorporated new perspectives, thanks to the work of historians such as Ximena Illanes, who deals with the study of childhood, especially from plenty of Catalan documentation; Virginia Iommi, that explores the link between literature and science; Sebastián Contreras, who has focused on the Thomistic philosophy and its repercussions; Rómulo Hidalgo, who has investigated the troubadours; Claudio Riveros with his interest in the gradual and monastic culture; or Diego Mundaca, who deals with the mentalities and the body as a social space, paying attention to the European middle ages getting through the colonial America. The Chilean medievalism shows signs of strength, because it is articulated with a specific society, organises scientific meetings and has universities with a wide range of programmes. But at the same time, inexperience affects it, due to the fact that proper research on the middle ages started in Chile only a few decades ago conducted by a single person, PhD. Héctor Herrero Cajas, who continued with a generation trained by himself which opened up to make the research reach all areas, and a younger generation is coming right now. In any case, a scientific work has taken place, ccontributing a variety of researches which constitute a significant contribution and encourage the inclusion of new national researchers connect the research work with international networks.

3. Bibliographic Appendix: Chilean Literature on the Middle Ages

3.1 Bibliography of the Chilean medievalism founder, Dr. Héctor Herrera Cajas 3.1.1 Books1

El Mundo de Ayer. Manual de Historia Antigua y Medieval para Educación Básica. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Pedagógicas, 1971 (80 pages). Las Relaciones Internacionales del Imperio Bizantino durante la Época de las Grandes Invasiones. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones del Centro de Estudios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de Chile, 1972 (236 pages).

1. A first state of art was published some years ago: Rojas Donat, Luis; Corti Badia, Paola “Bibliographie chilienne sur le Moyen Âge-2007”. Bulletin du centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre (BUCEMA), Hors série, 2 (2008), 20 January 2009. Centre d'Études Médievales Auxerre. 10 December 2014 . I update here the bibliography until 2012.

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Historia Universal. Antigüedad y Edad Media, Historia y Geografía, Primer Año de Educación Media, Héctor Herrera, Olga Giagnoni, Eliana Franco. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Pedagógicas Chilenas, 1983 (4th edition, 1988). Antigüedad y Edad Media. Manual de Historia Universal. Santiago de Chile: Academia Superior de Ciencias Pedagógicas, 1983: I (190 pages). Dimensiones de la Responsabilidad Educacional. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 1988 (308 pages) (set of articles published between 1960 and 1987 approaching topics of culture, history and university). Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina. Arte, Poder y Legado Histórico. Santiago de Chile: Centro de Estudios Bizantinos de la Universidad de Chile-Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 1998 (590 pages) (posthomous publication joining a set of researches about Byzantine History, which has been detailed further). El Imperio Bizantino. Introducción Histórica y Selección de Documentos. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones del Centro de Estudios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de Chile, 1998 (70 pages). Orígenes del Arte Bizantino. Ensayo sobre la formación del arte cristiano, eds. José Marín, Paola Corti, Amelia Herrera, Héctor Herrera. Valparaiso: Instituto de Historia, Pontificia Universidad Catolica de Valparaiso, 1985 (190 pages).

3.1.2 Papers

“El Chou-King y la concepción del poder real”. Clío, 24 (1953): 14-18. “Acerca del Duelo”. Anales de la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, 2 (1955): 83-128. “El significado del escudo en la Germania de Tácito”.Anales de la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, 4 (1957): 205-222 (reprinted in Altheim, Franz. Die Araber in der Alten Welt. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1966: III); reedited with additions and corrections: “La Germania de Tácito. El problema del significado del escudo”.Tiempo y Espacio, 5 (1995): 97-111. “Las relaciones internacionales del Imperio Bizantino”, Primera Semana Bizantina. Valparaíso: Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, 1958: 21-38. “El Presente, tiempo de la acción”. Mapocho, 1 (1963): 279-284. “Engaño y desengaño en la historiografía actual”. Historia, 8 (1969): 235-244. “Synésios de Cirene. Un crítico del Imperio”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 1 (1970): 108-123. “Dagoberto y Heraclio. Un capítulo de Historia Diplomática”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 2 (1971): 135-151. “Res Privata-Res Publica-Imperium”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 1 (1973-1976): 128-136. “San Benito y la formación de Occidente”. El Mercurio, 13 April 1980: E-4. “Bizancio y la formación de Rusia (Los tratados bizantino-rusos del s. X)”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 6 (1982): 13-54, reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 167-220. “Las estepas euroasiáticas. Un peculiar espacio histórico”, El espacio en las Ciencias. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 1982: 159-190, reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 223-262.

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“El sentido de la crisis en Occidente”. Academia, 8 (1983): 47-45. “Apelación a la Historia en el ’De Officiis’ de Cicerón”. Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 2 (1984): 103-123. “Los orígenes del arte bizantino. Ensayo sobre la formación del arte cristiano”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 7-8 (1985): 57-156. “Aproximación al Espíritu Imperial bizantino”. Revista de Historia Universal, 5 (1986): 37-54, reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 265-280. “Temas de Claudiano”. Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 3-4 (1986): 187-208. “La Constitución del ámbito cívico en el Mundo Grecorromano”. Historia, 21 (1986): 403-429. “Discurso de inauguración del Centro de Estudios Clásicos”. Limes, 1 (1988): 14-18. “Una utopía medieval: la “Orden Nueva” concebida por Joaquín de Fiore”, Reflexiones sobre Historia, Política y Religión. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Católica de Chile, 1988: 145-164. “El totalitarismo como persistencia de la mentalidad primitiva”. Ideologías y Totalitarismos. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Metropolitana de Ciencias de la Educación, 1988: 13-21. “José Ignacio Víctor Eyzaguirre, Historiador”. Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia, 100 (1989): 15-34. “Los pueblos de las estepas y la formación del arte bizantino. De la tienda a la iglesia cristiana”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 9-10 (1990) (reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 283-302). “Notas sobre el significado de la guerra”.Tiempo y Espacio, 1 (1990): 47-54. “La arquitectura del ’Discurso sobre la Historia Universal’ de Bossuet”. Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia, 101 (1990): 203-220. “Los estudios superiores en Bizancio”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 11-12 (1990-1992), Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 305-337. “La Espiritualidad Bizantina”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 341-348. “La Doctrina Gelasiana”, Padre Osvaldo Lira. En torno a su pensamiento. Homenaje en sus 90 años. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Zig-Zag, 1994 (reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 351-366). “La idea imperial bizantina: representación y concentración del poder”. Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 369-374. “La espiritualidad bizantina en el arte”. Bizancio: Arte y Espíritu. Santiago de Chile: Centro de Estudios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de Chile, 1995 (reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 377-392). “Simbología política del poder imperial en Bizancio: los pendientes de las coronas”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 13-15 (1993-1996) (reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 395-438). “Fiestas Imperiales en Constantinopla”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 16 (1997) (reedited in: Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 441-466). “Velleius Paterculus, moralista”. Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 6 (1992): 13-20. “Príncipe e Imperio en el panegírico de Trajano de Plinio el Joven”. Semana de Estudios Romanos, 7-8 (1996): 277-286.

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“Cómo leer a Floro”. Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 9 (1998): 15-28. “Lo cotidiano, ayer y hoy, aquí y allá”. Limes, 9-10 (1997-1998): 21-26. “Ética y educación. Una reflexión sobre los valores en nuestra sociedad”.Intus- Legere, 1 (1998): 125-134. “San Benito y el Ordo Romano”. Intus-Legere, 2 (1999): 7-20.

3.2 Bibliography of the Chilean Society of Medieval Studies 3.2.1 History of Science

Herrera, Amelia. “Revalorización de la ciencia médica en tiempos de Federico II”, Temas de Historia, II Jornadas de Historia Universal Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: 223-232.

3.2.2 Space and Time

Fuentes, Italo. “Experiencia Desértica y Modelo Urbano en el Antiguo Testamento”. Revista de Historia Universal, 9 (1988): 41-58. Herrera, Héctor. “Las estepas euroasiáticas: un peculiar espacio histórico”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 223-261. Marín, José. “Espacio Sagrado y Peregrinación. Símbolos y tradición veterotestamentaria”. Tiempo y Espacio, 7-8 (1997-1998): 93-111. Rojas, Luis. “Notas acerca del tiempo en la Edad Media”, Magisterio vital, José Luís Widow, Paola Corti, eds. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 2009: 405-420. Rojas, Luis. “Visión antropológica del espacio medieval”. Tiempo y Espacio, 7-8 (1997- 1998): 123-143.

3.2.3 Power and Politics

Cerda, José Manuel. “El año 1188 y la Historia Parlamentaria de Europa”. Intus Legere: Historia, 2/2 (2008): 27-41. Cerda, José Manuel, ed. El Mundo Medieval: Legado y Alteridad. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Finis Terrae, 2009. Cerda, José Manuel. “Legislación y Justicia en los concilios de Enrique II de Inglaterra (1154-1189)”. Revista Chilena de Historia del Derecho, 22/2 (2010): 151-170. Cerda, José Manuel. “Una nueva mirada a la génesis parlamentaria en la Europa medieval”, El Porvenir de la Humanidades y las Artes, 2. Diana Arauz, ed. México: Gobierno del estado de Zacatecas, 2010. Cerda, José Manuel. “Eventos tan grandiosos y memorables. Los cronistas de Enrique II de Inglaterra y la nueva narrativa histórica del siglo XII”, Historia,

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Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Altazor, 2011. Cerda, José Manuel. “The great assemblies of Alfonso VIII in Castile (1169-1188)”. Journal of Medieval Iberian Studies, 3/1 (2011): 61-77. Cerda, José Manuel. “La dot gasconne d’Aliénor d’Angleterre: entre royaume de Castille, royaume de France et royaume d’Angleterre”. Cahiers de civilisation médiévale, 54 (2011): 225-242. Cerda, José Manuel. “Leonor Plantagenet y la consolidación política de Castilla en el reinado de Alfonso VIII”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 42/2 (2012): 629-652. Gordo, Ángel. “Relaciones de la Monarquía del Reino de León con la Reforma Espiritual. Cluny, Fernando I y Alfonso VI”. Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2004): 71-80. Gordo, Ángel. “Una revisión de los Conceptos de Regnum e Imperium en la Historiografía del Reino Leonés”. Intus-Legere, 7/1 (2004): 113-121. Gordo, Ángel. “Las intitulaciones y expresiones de la Potestas de la reina Urraca I de León. Trasfondo y significado de los vocativosRegina e Imperatrix; en la primera mitad del siglo XII”. Intus-Legere, 9/1 (2006): 77-92. Gordo, Ángel. La Reina Urraca I (1109-1126). La Práctica del concepto de Imperium Legionense en la primera mitad del siglo XII. Zamora: Instituto de Estudios Zamoranos Florián de Ocampo-Diputación de Zamora (en prensa). Marín, José. Cruzada, Guerra Santa y Yihad. La Edad Media y Nosotros. Viña del Mar: Pontifica Universidad Católica de Valparaiso, 2003 (210 pages). Marín, José. “Notas para una reconsideración del concepto de guerra santa”, Atas do III Encontro Internacional de Estudos. Rio de Janeiro: Agora de Ilha, 2001: 431-440. Marín, José. “La figura del Príncipe en laMonarchia” . Intus Legere, 7/1 (2004): 89-103. Marín, José. “Las Cruzadas. Actualidad y perspectivas”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, 1 (2003): 251-261. Marín, José. “Bizancio, cruzada y guerra santa”. Tiempo y espacio, 11-12 (2001-2002): 77-101. Marín, José. “La Cuarta Cruzada (1204) Una herida abierta”. Byzantion Nea-Hellás, 21, (2002): 125-155. Marín, José. “La Cruzada como Guerra Justa”. Intus Legere, 5 (2002): 131-150. Soaje, Raquel. “La imagen del gobernante ideal según la Historia de Wamba de Julián de Toledo”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, 1 (2003): 141-152. Toro, José Miguel de. “Causa y sentido de las rebeliones nobiliarias ocurridas durante el reinado de Recaredo”. Tiempo y Espacio, 11-12 (2001-2002): 61-76. Toro, José Miguel de. “Sublevaciones visigóticas arrianas en la conversión de Recaredo: ¿Defensa de una fe o aspiraciones al poder?”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: I.1, 129-140. Toro, José Miguel de. “Algunos aspectos políticos y religiosos de la rebelión de Hermenegildo”. Intus-Legere, 7/2 (2004): 51-60.

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Toro, José Miguel de. “El problema de las relaciones entre romanos y visigodos. Encuentros y desencuentros en una convivencia forzada”. Intus-Legere, 9/1 (2006): 63-75. Zamora, Patricio. “El reino franco en los tiempos carolingios (s.IX). Episcopalización y escenificación como estrategias persuasivas del poder real”.Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2004): 55-69. Zamora, Patricio. “San Luis, sacralización y santificación del Poder. Los niveles sobrenaturales de la legitimidad real francesa: Discurso-Práctica-Representación”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: 153-163. Zamora, Patricio. “El rey sagrado, arquetipo político religioso. Concepción y Representación en las fuentes del poder sagrado de la Edad Media (I)”. Intus Legere, 4 (2001): 123-140.

3.2.4 History of Law

Rojas, Luis. “El sistema probatorio medieval de los germanos visto por historiadores alemanes del derecho del siglo XIX y de comienzos del siglo XX”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 34 (2012): 483-507. Rojas, Luis. “La potestad apostólica in spiritualibus en las bulas ultramarinas portuguesas del siglo XV”. Temas Medievales, 15-16 (2007-2008): 111-124. Rojas, Luis. “La potestad apostólica in temporalibus en las bulas portuguesas y castellanas”. Revista Chilena de Historia del Derecho, 22/1 (2010): 625-636. Rojas, Luis. Derecho y Humanismo en el siglo XV. Concepcion: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2010 (267 pages). Rojas, Luis. Poner las manos al fuego. Ordalías, duelos y venganzas en la Edad Media. Concepcion: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2014 (478 pages).

3.2.5 Church and monasticism

Corti, Paola. “La Conversión de San Patricio”. Cuadernos Monásticos, 128 (1999): 61-84. Gordo, Ángel. “En Torno al Concepto de “Reforma Gregoriana”, II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriel Mistral, 2003: 263-270. Gordo, Ángel. “Las Ideas Gregorianas sobre el Dominio del Mundo”. Intus-Legere, 6/2 (2003): 51-61. Gordo, Ángel. “Papado y Monarquía en el Reino de León. Las relaciones político religiosas de Gregorio VII y Alfonso VI en el contexto del Imperium Legionense y de la implantación de la Reforma Pontifical en la Península Ibérica”. Studia Medievalis, 49 (2008): 519-559.

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Gordo, Ángel. “Política y Religión en el reino de León durante el último tercio del Siglo XI. Obispados y casas monásticas durante la instauración de la Reforma Espiritual Romana”. Intus-Legere, 8/1 (2005): 55-69. Marín, José. “Dos visiones acerca del monasticismo a fines del Mundo Antiguo y comienzos de la Edad Media”. Humanas, 21/1-2 (1998): 458-459. Marín, José. “Notas preliminares para una relectura de la Regula Agustini”. Intus Legere, 2 (1999): 31-47. Marín, José. “Rutilio y San Jerónimo de frente al monasticismo”. Teología y Vida, 39/4 (1998): 353-363. Moreno, Rodrigo. “El monacato cartujano como opción ermitaño-cenobítica en los siglos XI y XII: una visión benedictina”. Intus-Legere, 2 (1999): 81-91. Moreno, Rodrigo. “La liturgia de las Horas en la tradición monástica medieval”. II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriel Mistral, 2003: 233-240. Rojas, Luis. Orígenes históricos del Papado. Concepcion: Ediciones Universidad del Bío- Bío, 2006 (166 pages). Rojas, Luis. “El poder de los papas medievales. Cambios y permanencias”, Cuestiones de Historia Medieval, vol. 1: el occidente medieval, Gerardo Rodríguez, dir. Buenos Aires: Facultad de Filosofía y Letras de la Universidad Católica Argentina, 2010: 431-467.

3.2.6 Religious Mentalities

Corti, Paola. “El sentido misional en San Gregorio Magno”. Intus Legere, 2 (1999): 67-80. Corti, Paola. “El tiempo en las Confesiones de San Agustín”. Intus Legere, 5 (2002): 121-130. Fuentes, Italo. “Espacio y Tiempo en la Visión Profética”. Revista Academia, 16-17 (1988): 73-79. Fuentes, Italo. “Los Sentidos del Monje Primitivo”. Iter-Encuentros, 4 (1995): 169-174. Fuentes, Italo. “El Espacio y la Risa”. Revista Licantropía, 5 (1996): 20-23. Fuentes, Italo. “Visión, Naturaleza e Historia en Hildegard von Bingen”. Cyberhumanitatis, 19 (2002): 1-8. Fuentes, Italo. “Música e Historia en Hildegard von Bingen”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 62 (2003): 145-163. Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Escritura e Imagen Visionaria en el Liber Divinorum Operum de Hildegard de Bingen. Teologia Y Vida, 46/3 (2005): 374-388. Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Hildegard Von Bingen: Imágenes de la Sabiduría y Tradición Sapiencial”. Teologia Y Vida, 47 (2006): 352-367. Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Look, Know, Imagine: The Vision of the Source and the Three Maids in Liber Divinorum Operum by Hildegard of Bingen”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 68 (2006): 105-121.

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Herrera, Héctor. “Una utopía medieval: la “Orden Nueva” concebida por Joaquín de Fiore”, Reflexiones sobre Historia, Política y Religión. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Católica de Chile, 1988. Herrera, Héctor. “La doctrina gelasiana”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina, Héctor Herrera, ed. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 1998: 351-366. Marín, José. “Las Cruzadas como Guerra Santa: un problema historiográfico de definiciones conceptuales”.Intus Legere, 4 (2001): 141-158. Riveros, Claudio. “Desarrollo de una teoría de guerra justa y de guerra santa: legitimación del uso de la fuerza en aras de la fe”, Temas de Historia. II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: 51, 271-284. Riveros, Claudio. “Movimientos canonigales y eremitismo: nuevos modelos espirituales procedentes del espíritu de reforma del siglo XII”. Intus Legere, 8/1 (2005): 87-105. Riveros, Claudio. “Un foco del imaginario: el Císter durante la primera mitad del siglo XII”. Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2005): 81-94. Riveros, Claudio. “Algunas notas respecto al modelo monacal feudal en tiempos de San Bernardo (1° mitad del siglo XII): la problemática de la vida continente en tiempo de reforma”. Veritas, 12 (2004): 123-145. Riveros, Claudio. “La vida monacal en tiempos feudales: el problema de la continencia”. Tiempo y espacio, 18 (2007): 47-59. Rojas, Luis. “La ideología de la cruzada en la España del siglo XV”. Humanas, revista do Instituto de Filosofía e Ciências Humanas da Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul, 21/1 (1998, Actas del II Encontro de Estudios Medievais. Porto Alegre: Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul, 1998, I): 149-164. Rojas, Luis. “Infidelitas, esbozo para la historia de un concepto en los siglos XIV y XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-jurídicos, 11 (1986): 215-241. Rojas, Luis. “El hombre medieval y la guerra”. Tiempo y Espacio, 1 (1990): 19-34. Rojas, Luis. “El fin del milenio. Una mirada medieval”.Theoria , 8 (1999): 109-115. Rojas, Luis. “Dos informes en derecho del siglo XV sobre las relaciones entre cristianos y sarracenos. Eurocentrismo y alteridad jurídica”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-jurídicos, 30 (2008): 465-481. Rojas, Luis. Para una meditación de la Edad Media. Concepcion: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2009 (436 pages). Rojas, Luis. “Aproximación a los justos títulos de la expansión ibérica. Proyecciones histórico-jurídicas del pensamiento de Alonso de Cartagena”. Revista de Derecho, 21 (2010-2011): 103-119. Rojas, Luis. “Alonso de Cartagena y sus Allegationes: aproximación a una ideología cristiana de la expansión ultramarina”, Actas del XI Coloquio de Historia canario- americana (1994). Las Palmas de Gran Canaria: Ediciones del Cabildo Insular de Gran Canaria, 1994: 3, 5-17.

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3.2.7 Byzantine History

Marín, José. “Byzantium and the Dark Ages. A Civilization on Trial”. Imago temporis. Medium aevum, 2 (2008): 59-82 and 309-329. Marín, José. “Inocencio III y la Cuarta cruzada”. Intus Legere, 1/2 (2008): 127-137. Marín, José. “Noticias bizantinas en España. El caso de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Temas Medievales, 17 (2009): 37-67. Marín, José. “Notas acerca de la Rebizantinización del Peloponeso en el siglo IX”, El mundo medieval. Legado y alteridad, ed. José Manuel Cerda. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae, 2009: 65-88. Marín, José. “Bizancio, los eslavos y Europa Oriental”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 28 (2009): 53-67. Marín, José. “Bizancio en Chile. Recordando a Héctor Herrera Cajas (1930-1997)”, Un Magisterio Vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 2009: 41-48. Marín, José. “Grecia y los eslavos en el Chronicon de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Acta Historica et Archaeologica Mediaevalia, 30 (2009-2010): 69-84. Marín, José. “Bizancio en la Crónica Universal de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 29 (2010): 89-98. Marín, José. La Crónica de Monemvasía. Texto y Contexto. Valparaiso: Instituto de Historia de la Pontificia Universidad Catolica de Valparaiso, 2010 (258 pages). Marín, José. “Bizancio en el siglo VII: entre historia y profecía. Notas en torno a los sucesos del año 626”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 30 (2011): 41-73. Marín, José. “Recordando a Justiniano y Teodora”. Red Cultural, 10 (2011): 30-33. Marín, José. “Ana Comneno: época, vida y obra”. Medieval, 45 (2012): 23-31.

3.2.8 Marginality

Illanes, Ximena. “Amores ausentes: el drama de abandonar a un niño en la Barcelona del siglo XV”, Legado y Alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Finisterrae, 2009. Illanes, Ximena. “Las Hermanas de la Providencia: ‘madres vírgenes’ al cuidado de los niños abandonados. Siglo XIX”, Historia de las mujeres en Chile, Joaquín Fermandois, Ana María Stuven, eds. Santiago de Chile: Taurus, 2011: 261-290. Illanes, Ximena “Aprendiendo a vivir. Trabajo y servicio de niñas y niños acogidos en el Hospital de la Santa Creu de Barcelona (1401-1510)”. HIB Revista Historia Iberoamericana, 6/2 (2013): 63-104. Illanes, Ximena. “Historias entrecruzadas: el período de lactancia de las niñas y niños abandonados y sus nodrizas en el Hospital de Barcelona durante el siglo XV”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 43/1 (2013): 159-197. Rojas, Luis. “Europa y los otros. Intolerancia y alteridad a fines del medioevo”. Theoria, 9 (2000): 151-168.

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3.2.9 Devotion

Corti, Paola. “El lenguaje de las imágenes medievales: hacia un intento de definición”. Un magisterio vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas, José Marín, Álvaro Pezoa, José Luis Widow, eds. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universitarias, 2008: 325-351. Corti, Paola. “Memoria, imagen y devoción en libros de horas de los siglos XIV y XV”, El mundo medieval. Legado y alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae, 2009: 249-275. Corti, Paola. “La devoción eucarística a fines de la Edad Media: el ejemplo de las Horas del Santísimo Sacramento en el Libro de Horas de Catherine de Clèves”, Razón y Tradición. Estudios en honor de Juan Antonio Widow, Miguel Ayuso, Álvaro Pezoa, Jose Luis Widow, eds. Santiago de Chile: Globo Editores, 2011: II, 319-340. Corti, Paola. “Les Princesses et leurs livres de dévotion à la fin du Moyen Âge”.La Maison du Moyen Âge. 1st February 2012, Centre d'Études superieures de Civilisation Médiévale-Médiathèque François-Mitterrand de Poitiers-Service de l'inventaire du Patrimoine cultural de la région Poitou-Charentes. Service commun de la documentation de l'Université de Poitiers, 26th November 2014 . Hildegard de Bingen. El libro de las obras divinas, María Isabel Flisfisch, María Eugenia Góngora, María José Ortúzar, eds. Barcelona: Herder Editorial, 2009. Góngora, María Eugenia. “Persona y mundo en el Liber divinorum operum de Hildegard de Bingen”, El mundo medieval. Legado y alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universiadad Finis Terrae, 2009: 135-153. Góngora, María Eugenia. “El corazón inscrito”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 73 (2008): 217-223.

3.2.10 Medieval Projections America

Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “El Juicio Final de Parinacota”, “Entre cielos e infiernos”, Memoria del V Encuentro Internacional sobre Barroco. La Paz: Fundación Visión Cultural, 2010: 115-124 (368 pages). Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “La pintura mural de la Iglesia de Santiago de Curahuara de Carangas como patrón iconográfico de la Iglesia de la Natividad de Parinacota”, “Entre cielos e infiernos”, Memoria del V Encuentro Internacional sobre Barroco. La Paz: Fundación Visión Cultural, 2010: 115-124 (368 pages). Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “El Indio Trifronte de Parinacota: un enigma historiográfico”.Colonial Latinamerican Review, 20/3 (2011): 381-400. Corti, Paola. “Heráldica e iconografía emblemática de la Iglesia Anglicana Saint-Paul de Valparaíso”, Legado Británico en Valparaíso, Michelle Prain, ed. Viña del Mar: RIL Editores-British Council, 2011: 188-211.

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Rojas, Luis. España y Portugal ante los otros. Concepcion: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2002.

3.2.11 Classical Islam, al-Andalus and Border

Melo, Diego. “La Primera Embajada Bizantina en Córdoba”. Bizantion Nea Hellas, 19 (2000): 163-186. Melo, Diego. “Persistencias del Urbanismo musulmán en las Ciudades hispano- árabes”. Archivum, 2/3 (2000): 80-87. Melo, Diego. “Un pequeño gran problema de la Historia Medieval: La Revuelta del Arrabal (Rabad) de Córdoba (818) y la Toma de Creta en el 827”. Notas Histórica y Geográficas, 11 (2001): 141-149. Melo, Diego. “Aportes para la comprensión del mundo musulmán. El concepto de Djihad: estado de la cuestión y definiciones”.Notas Históricas y Geográficas, 13-14 (2003): 13-19. Melo, Diego. “Algunas consideraciones en torno del concepto Djihad y su aplicación en época de las Cruzadas”. Intus-Legere, 6/2 (2003): 63-73. Melo, Diego. “Ceremonial y diplomacia en el palacio Califal de Madinat al-Zahra”. Revista Temas de Historia, 1/1 (2003): 241-250. Melo, Diego. “La Yahilliyya: oscuridad y luces en la Arabia pre-islámica”. Intus Legere, 7/1 (2004): 123-139. Melo, Diego. “Notas en torno a los fundamentos jurídicos del Islam: Corán, Sunna y Shari’a. Definiciones y precisiones conceptuales”.Revista História: Questões & Debates, 41/2 (2004): 57-72. Melo, Diego. “Un historiador musulmán: Ibn Jaldún”. Historia: el sentido humano del tiempo, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2005. Melo, Diego. “El concepto de Yihad en el Islam Clásico y sus etapas de aplicación”. Temas Medievales, 15 (2005): 157-172. Melo, Diego. “Notas en torno al problema de la Islamofobia”. Si Somos Americanos, 6 (2005): 19-34. Melo, Diego. “Algunos aspectos en torno a la guerra del Corán”. Anales de Teología, Universidad de la Santísima Concepción, 8/2 (2006): 45-58. Melo, Diego. “Algunos aspectos en relación con el desarrollo jurídico del concepto Yihad en el Oriente islámico medieval y al-Andalus”. Revista Chilena de Derecho, 34/3 (2007): 405-419. Melo, Diego. “El problema político en los albores del islam: la relación entre la religión y la política a partir de dos visiones historiográficas”.Si Somos Americanos, 9/1 (2007): 171-182. Melo, Diego. “El Islam de frente a las Cruzadas: la visión oriental, desde la escisión interna hasta la reunificación de Saladino”.Intus-Legere Historia, 1/2-1 (2007):131-155.

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Melo, Diego. “Gloria, sacrificio y martirio en la tradición preislámica y en el Islam clásico”. Revista Tiempo y Espacio, 18 (2007): 65-80. Melo, Diego. “El Islam de frente a las Cruzadas: La Visión Oriental, desde la escisión interna hasta la reunificación de Saladino”.Intus-Legere , 1/2-1 (2007). Melo, Diego. “Características y proyección de las treguas entre Castilla y Granada durante los siglos XIII, XIV y XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 30 (2008): 277-287. Melo, Diego. “Algunas aproximaciones en relación con el espacio fronterizo entre Castilla y Granada (S. XIII-XV): espacio, instituciones, guerra y tregua”. Instituçoes, poderes y jurisdiçoes, Marcella Lopes Guimaraes, Renan Frighetto, eds. Curitiba: Editorial Juruá, 2007 (202 pages). Melo, Diego. “Una aproximación al mundo de Ibn Jaldún: precursor medieval de la historia de las civilizaciones”, Miradas españolas sobre Ibn Jaldún, José Luis Garrot, José Luis Quesada, eds. Madrid: Ibersaf Editores, 2008: 135-147. Melo, Diego. “Paraíso e infierno: el fin de la historia en la perspectiva de un cautivo musulmán”, El Fin de La Historia, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2009. Melo, Diego. “Dos momentos en un mismo espacio y tiempo: guerra y tregua en la frontera castellano-Granadina (siglos XIII-XV)”, Un Magisterio Vital: Historia, Educación y Cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas, José Luis Widow, Álvaro Pezoa, José Marín, eds. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 2008: 15-26. Melo, Diego. “La importancia de Abraham en el islam”. Intus-Legere, 1 (2009): 51-59. Melo, Diego. “Frontera y cautivos en al-Andalus: Inocencio III y el rescate de cautivos”. Intus-Legere, 1 (2009): 85-95. Melo, Diego. “Cautividad y rescate en la frontera Castellano-Granadina (s. XIII- XV): Entre adalides, alcaldes, rastreros y redentores”, El Mundo Medieval. Legado y Alteridad. José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae 2009: 107-134. Melo, Diego. “Europa y el Islam: Dinámicas de encuentro y desencuentro”, Europa y el Mediterráneo Musulmán. Diego Melo, Fernando Laiseca, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2010: 17-33. Melo, Diego. “Córdoba: la joya que brilló en Occidente”. Cuestiones de Historia Medieval, 1 (2011): 309-326. Melo, Diego. “Un aspecto de la vida en la frontera castellano-granadina (s. XIII-XV): la acción de rastreros y redentores”. Studi Medievali 52/3-1 (2011): 639-664. Melo, Diego. “Pedir ayuda a ’los otros’: Algunas consideraciones en torno a la primera embajada bizantina en Córdoba (S. IX)”. Estudios de Historia de España, 13 (2011): 37-53. Melo, Diego. “Algunas consideraciones en torno a la frontera, la tregua y libre determinación en la frontera castellano-granadina s. XIII-XV”. Estudios de Historia de España, 14 (2012): 109-102. Melo, Diego, “Las treguas entre Granada y Castilla durante los siglos XIII a XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 34 (2012).

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Melo, Diego. “En torno al vasallaje y las parias en las treguas entre Granada y Castilla (siglos XIII-XV): una posibilidad de análisis”. Medievalismo, 22 (2012): 139-152. Melo, Diego. “Sobre el ’entrar’, ’vivir’ y ’salir’ del cautiverio: un aspecto de la vida en la frontera castellano-granadina en los siglos XIII-XV”. Iacobvs, 31-32 (2012): 181-214. Melo, Diego; Vidal, Francisco, eds. A 1300 años de la Conquista de al-Andalus (711- 2011). Coquimbo: Editorial Altazor-Centro Mohammed VI para el Diálogo de Civilizaciones, 2012. Melo, Diego; González, Patricio, eds. Diálogos y Diversidad. V Encuentro del Diálogo de Civilizaciones. Viña del Mar: Editorial Altazor-Centro Mohammed VI para el Diálogo de Civilizaciones, 2012.

3.2.12 Theoretical and Historiographical Aspects

Marín, José. “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, Un Magisterio Vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 2009: 17-27. Marín, José. “Notas acerca de la obra historiográfica isidoriana. Narración y retórica de exaltación goda en la Crónica Universal”, Historia, Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2011: 229-237. Marín, José. “El prólogo como género específico en obras históricas (siglos IV-VIII)”. Studi medievali, 55/2 (2014): 521-550. Corti, Paola; Rojas, Luis. “Les études médiévales au Chili. Bilan et tendances actuelles”, Le Moyen Âge vu d’ailleurs. Histoire, archéologie, art et littérature. Entre l’Europe et l’Amérique latine, Eliana Magnani, ed. Dijon: Éditions de l’Université de Dijon, 2010. Rojas, Luis. “Notas sobre el concepto mentalidad en la medievística europea”. Intus Legere Historia, 3/2 (2009): 93-106. Rojas, Luis. “El cristianismo en una obra reciente”. Temas Medievales, 18 (2010): 169-194. Rojas, Luis. “La historiografía decimonónica y la figura de Fustel de Coulanges”. Tiempo y Espacio, 24 (2010): 123-128. Rojas, Luis. “El problema de la trama en el oficio del historiador”,Historia, Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2011: 213-228.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 47-65 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.02

AFTER THE 12th CENTURY: WAR AND LEGAL ORDER (OR, OF HISTORIOGRAPHY AND ITS CHIMERAS)

Federico devís Universidad de Cádiz Spain

Date of receipt: 9th of October, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 10th of September, 2014

Abstract

The publication in 2009 of John Watts’s The Making of Polities renewed interest not only in the causal relation that is habitually taken for granted nowadays between war and the development of state institutions in the late medieval centuries (a question about which recent English historiography has produced other works of enormous interest), but also in the appropriateness of state categories to think about the changes that, driven by war or not, took place then in the field of the forms of political organisation of Western Europe. This paper looks at the the historiographic origins and development of the state-centred model of explaining those changes, and then explores (especially as regards the evolution of the idea of war itself) the potential for a jurisdictionalist model which, through a more contextualized reading of sources and closer attention to its long-term deployment since the 12th century, has been reconstructing the recent legal and related historiographies from, especially, southern European countries.1

Keywords

Modern State, Modern Historiography, Ius Commune, Constitutional History, War, Feud.

Capitalia Verba

Status Modernus, Historigraphia Moderna, Ius Commune, Historia Constitucionalis, Bellum, Feodum.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 67-107 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.03 67 68 Federico Devís

1 Genly Ai stated: “Though I had been nearly two years on Winter I was still far from being able to see the people of the planet through their own eyes. I tried to, but my efforts took the form of self-consciously seeing a Gethenian first as a man, then as a woman, forcing him into those categories so irrelevant to his nature and so essential to my own”. 2

“The importance of concepts derives from their relationship to action.”3

1. State dynamic or translation problem?

War is rompimiento de Reynos, o Principes, o comunidades, as Sebastián de Covarrubias described it in the early 17th century, to which he also added —and he must have known being both a renowned lexicographer and chaplain to such a belligerent king as Phillip II— that conversely we use the term guerrilla, quando entre particulares ay pendencia, y enemistad formada, que acuden unos a una parte, y otros a otra, pero estas castigan los Principes de las republicas severamente.4 Nowadays anyone finding both definitions together would perhaps find no reason not to suppose, being carried away by a false sense of familiarity with “Siglo de Oro” Spanish, that particulares in the second definition could refer to nothing other than persons or individuals who, as such, act in the private context and whose resort to arms to settle their differences was obviously punished by those who embodied public authority, the only ones to whom the legitimate use of armed force corresponds. Perhaps that reading might even equate those concepts not with kingdoms, communities or republics but (aiming to make them easier to understand by a modern mind) States, since (whether singular or plural) this is the term that today most commonly evokes

1. This study is part of the research project HAR-2009-13225 financed by the Ministry of Science and Innovation of the . A draft version of the text was discussed in the meeting about Desenvolupaments bèl·lics al segle XII held in the Rovira i Virgili University in September 2012. My thanks to María Bonet Donato, Pere Benito Monclús, Carlos Estepa Díez, Amancio Isla Frez, Carlos Laliena Corbera and Pascual Martínez Sopena, who attended the above-mentioned meeting, for their pertinent observations on what I presented there. Ramón Vargas-Machuca Ortega and José Luis Rodríguez Sández, as well as two anonymous evaluators, also deserve my gratitude for the valuable suggestions they made after a careful reading of the full text, so that all errors and deficiencies in this final version can only be imputed to the contumacy or negligence of the author. Thanks go to Rafael Galán Moya for revising the translation into English. 2. Le Guin, Ursulak. The Left Hand of Darkness. New York: Ace Books, 1969: chapter 1. 3. Richter, Melvin. “Introduction: Translation, the History of Concepts and the History of Political Thought”, Why Concepts Matter: Translating Social and Political Thought, Martin, J. Burke, Melvin Richter, eds. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2012: 9. 4. “breaking of Kingdoms, or Princes, or communities”, “when there are disputes between individuals, and enmity formed, they all turn to one side, and other on another, but these punish the Princes of the republics severely”. Covarrubias, Sebastián de. Tesoro de la lengua castellana, o española. Madrid: Luis Sánchez impresor, 1611: 455r. .

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the idea of public authority, the territory it is projected onto, and the matters that are specific to it. Also around 1600, war, therompimiento or rift that it should only be appropriate to call so, would finally become a question of and between States. At least in this respect, the past does not seem to be, as has been oft repeated lately, a foreign country.5 In identical circumstances, a professional historian would undoubtedly exercise greater prudence when choosing concepts. Consider one of the most recent volumes published in one of the leading collections for academic history, the French “Nouvelle Clio”, a work dedicated to the century which covered most of the life of the author of the Tesoro and that furthermore pays very special attention to the Hispanic Monarchy.6 Assuredly, States also appear here, right from the title of the work, as subjects and actors in a scenario which seems to be of “international relations”, in whose development in the 16th century armed conflicts played a very notable part, to the point that war was precisely, as the book stated, il piu formidabile vettore della crescita dello Stato moderno.7 However, opting for these concepts means the author feels obliged to start by offering some explanations, aware that they are not as evident and unequivocal as they may seem. On one hand, he states that talking about “international relations” could justifiably be anachronistic, as in the 16th century il termine ’nazione’ non ha il senso che acquisirà a partire dal XVIII secolo,8 to which he adds that it should be borne in mind that, although its weight grew as the century went by, then lo Stato non ha il monopolio delle relazioni diplomatiche.9 On the other hand, regarding the reality that one wishes to imply with the word State, always written with a capital letter, the difficulties this generates are revealed by the fact that the identical epigraph used to title two chapters of the book, one devoted to the techniques of government and the other to political ideas and practices, does little more than revive an old question formulated by Federico Chabod over fifty years ago: “Is there a State in the Renaissance?” The interrogative form was also used in the epigraph heading one of the sections of the bibliography of the volume: “Genesis of the modern State?”. Indeed the author thinks that la riflessione sullo Stato del Rinascimento sembra essere giunta a una forma di aporia storiografica10 and, in any case, it should not remain in the paradigm suggested by the last epigraph cited, which has been the key to the dominant reading in recent decades while also the

5. A topic about which an essential reflection is Chittolini, Giorgio. “Un paese lontano”.Società e storia, 26 (2003): 331-354. 6. Tallon, Alain. L’Europe au XVIe siècle: États et relations internationales. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2010. I use here the Italian translation: Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento: Stati e relazioni internazionali. Rome: Carocci, 2013. 7. “the most formidable vector for the development of the modern State”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 157. 8. “the term ’nation’ did not have the sense it would acquire from the 18th century”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 17. 9. “the State does not have the monopoly on diplomatic relations”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 16. 10. “the reflection about the State of the Renaissance seems to have reached a kind of historiographic impasse”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 209.

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subject of intense debates. The author explains why he, in the end, favours a State- centred explanation:

Da questi dibattiti, a volte assai vivace, sulle nozioni di Stato e di nazione / si può tuttavia desumere che il XVI secolo vede una affermazione senza precedenti del potere statale, uno ’Stato-patrimonio’ più che uno Stato-nazione, senza che questa concezione nazionale sia assente o in contraddizione con la prima.11

However, given such a detour and the necessity for adjectives to qualify the State that really existed in that time, it does not seem misplaced or meaningless to ask if the problem is not more in the substantive. The problem, if you like, is one of translation, as suggested above, an operation as necessary as it is delicate; of translation, understood here, from the language of the sources to the language of the historian, which although they can be same language can also correspond to different phases of its evolution, which inevitably places a filter between the two —a cultural filter between two different contexts— which should not be ignored. In the introduction to La société féodale, Marc Bloch stated that “las palabras son como monedas muy usadas: a fuerza de circular de mano en mano, pierden su relieve etimológico”.12 Some years earlier, Lucien Febvre, with his habitual belligerent eloquence, reproached Julien Benda for appealing to a supposedly timeless, “metaphysical” idea of nation in using this word in his Esquisse d’une histoire des Français dans leur volonté d’être une nation:

Lo que usted ha hecho es solamente reforzar la tendencia a tomar las palabras más claras hoy para los hombres de hoy como confortables y seguros vehículos con que remontar el curso de los siglos, sin necesidad de cambiar nunca de sitio o de medio de transporte.13

Despite such warnings, issued in the interwar period by two such enormously influential figures in the later development of the historical discipline during the 20th century, it seems that it was not until more recently that historians have begun to take seriously and discuss in depth the problems derived from their condition as “translators”.14 Conversely, for a long time and in general, they have rather tended

11. “From these debates, sometimes very lively, around the notions of State and nation, one can nevertheless derive that the 16th century saw an unprecedented affirmation of state power, a ’patrimonial State’ more than a nation-State, without this national conception being absent or in contradiction with the former”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 17. 12. “words, like well-worn coins, in the course of constant circulation lose their clear outline”. I cite the version in Bloch, Marc. La sociedad feudal. Mexico: Unión Tipográfica Editorial Hispano Americana, 1979: I, 2-3. 13. “What you have done is only reinforce the tendency to take the clearest words for today’s men as comfortable and safe vehicles with which to go back through the centuries, without the need ever to change place or means of transport.” Febvre, Lucien. Combates por la historia. Barcelona: Ariel, 1970: 129. 14. Adams, William Paul. “The Historian as Translator: An Introduction”. The Journal of American History, 85/4 (1999): 1283-1289; Ghosh, Peter. “Translation as a Conceptual Act”. Max Weber Studies, 2/1 (2001): 59-63; and above all now Why Concepts Matter cit., especially on this point the contribution by Palonen,

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to avoid such a condition, or at least to conduct themselves, with more or less awareness, first as enthusiastic followers of Jorge Luis Borges in his defence of the translator’s “creative infidelity” than as firm supporters in this matter (which seems more de rigueur among those who aim to study the changes in societies over time) of Octavio Paz’s attitude, who, a defender of fidelity to and respect for the source text to safeguard its differences, saw in this the way that the translator se obliga a reconocer que el mundo no termina en nosotros y que el hombre es los hombres.15 To return to the question that concerns us here: for the entire “long Middle Ages” that Jacques Le Goff speaks of, or alternatively the longs temps modernes that others favour16 (although it is a more equivocal expression), that is, the period of Western history between the 12th and 18th centuries, it can be said what is nowadays less disputed about the chronology traditionally labelled Middle Ages: namely, that there is then no equivalent of the term State in its current political definition (that is to say, no sooner than its meaning as a specific, and therefore historical, form of political organization is taken seriously). The word state does exist, but none of its meanings corresponds with this definition, as can be easily checked with a contextualised reading of the entry in the Covarrubias’s lexicon we started with.17 And there is also a political vocabulary specific to that age, none of whose terms is a direct equivalent, as we argued. Therefore, translating this vocabulary when the occasion arises by resorting to the state categories amounts to resorting to what is usually called, in grammar, a false friend, as well as ignoring that (as Reinhart Koselleck has insisted over the recent decades) all translation involves a reconceptualization; in the German historian’s words: Toda traducción al propio presente implica una historia conceptual.18 Thus, to talk about the difficulties that affected the process of “State Building” in the 12th century in the Christian principalities in the Near East, or considering in the same way, or even as “state-rebuilding”, the progress of the Castilian- Leonese Reconquest around the same time, to cite two recent examples,19 is at least imprecise and equally leads to confusion. However, let us move on and

Kari. “Reinhart Koselleck on Translation, Anachronism and Conceptual Change”, Why concepts matter: translating social and political thought, Martin J. Burke, Melvin Richte, eds. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2012: 73-92. 15. “is forced to recognize that the world does not end in us and that man is men”. See Sáenz, Miguel. Servidumbre y grandeza de la traducción. Madrid: Real Academia Española, 2013, which is the author’s speech on entering this institution and where I take the quotes from. 16. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 15. 17. A relevant comment can be found in Clavero, Bartolomé. Razón de estado, razón de individuo, razón de historia. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1991: 16-21. 18. “All translation into the present implies a conceptual history”. Koselleck, Reinhart. Historias de conceptos: estudios sobre semántica y pragmática del lenguaje político y social. Madrid: Trotta, 2012: 10. However, the original text the quote is taken from dates from 1986. 19. Barber, Malcolm. “The Challenge of State Building in the Twelfth Century: the Crusader States in Palestine and ”. Reading Medieval Studies, 36 (2010): 7-22; Purkis, William J. “Eleventh-and Twelfth- Century Perspectives of State Building in the Iberian Peninsula”. Reading Medieval Studies, 36 (2010): 57- 75. This is a monographic issue of the journal dedicated to “Crusading and State Building in the Central Middle Ages”.

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place ourselves in the last centuries conventionally still regarded as medieval, in relation with which the focus of State-building appears more elaborate and is most commonly accepted. Let us do so, however, from a perspective of continuity regarding the immediately preceding centuries, that is, without the “14th-century crisis” intervening and making us lose sight of the developments in matters of political organisation that had taken place before the “crisis”, in the 12th and 13th centuries, during the period of European expansion and deployment. This is precisely the perspective that John Watts adopts in his important recent efforts to rescue the late Medieval centuries, as far as their political history is concerned, from their habitual consideration as centuries of transition or transformation between the “medieval” and the “early modern”, that is, of their ambiguous or ambivalent treatment around ideas of exhaustion and conclusion on one hand, and genesis and delivery, on the other.20 And it is precisely from that standpoint that Watts forestalls the emphasis on the part played by war in the usual narrative and image that traditional and less traditional historians construct of the 14th and 15th centuries. The former group of historians draw on war as another factor whose frequency and ubiquity, together with other well-known calamities, contributed decisively to giving the late Middle Ages, or at least part of this, a rather sombre character. The second group, those historians less attached to the renowned —and soon centennial— “autumn” metaphor, who form a majority nowadays, invoke war as the “midwife” (in Watts’ own expression) of the modern State —that is to say, as the major cause (actually an independent explanatory variable in many cases) in the unfolding of a new taxation (a State taxation, it is claimed) that would be at the basis of a new institutional reality, the modern State, whose origin or genesis thus becomes the overarching element of the political history of the late Middle Ages. However, Watts thinks that this stereotypical view of the Late Middle Ages as an age of greater armed conflictivity is not justified. Neither the size of armies deployed, nor its duration and intensity or destructive capacity made war undergo any significant change compared with the earlier period, at least prior to the outbreak of the Italian Wars of the middle of the last decade of the 15th century.21

20. Watts, John. The Making of Polities: Europe 1300-1500. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2009. What is said below only aims to echo Watts’ approach. For a more detailed analysis, see Challet, Vincent. “John Watts, The Making of Polities (Europe, 1300-1500)”. Cahiers de recherches médiévales et humanistes. (2009) [5 september 2010]. Garnier Éditions Classiques. 8 september 2013. ; Lazzarini, Isabella. “Il sistema politico europeo alla fine del medioevo. A proposito di un libro di John Watts”. Storica, 48 (2010): 121-134. 21. This date also serves as a turning point in the periodisation used by Black, Jeremy. War: A Short History. London & New York: Continuum, 2009. Contrary to the idea of the existence of a “military revolution” in early modern Europe and in favour of placing the emphasis in the military history of the continent more on the elements of continuity and a slow and gradual evolution between the medieval and early modern periods, while rejecting the simplicity which has sometimes been seen in the development and characterístics of warfare in the Middle Ages, Black states that “it is unclear that early-modern warfare was more brutal, in Europe or elsewhere, than its medieval predecessor” (Black, Jeremy. War: A Short History...: 71). On the other hand, John France, another leading specialist in military history, concluded that between 1300 and 1650 “much progress had been made in adapting to the

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It would have been an exaggerated and undue generalisation of the experience of the kingdom of France, the main scenario of the Hundred Years War, and the greater abundance and descriptive wealth of the sources that led to this error of appreciation. Although they were not more frequent or very different from those of the immediately previous centuries, it is obvious that there were wars in the Late Middle Ages. However, Watts does not believe these should be considered “the great motor of later medieval political life”.22 These wars were the cause but also the effect and consequence of the changes that were then occurring in the forms of organisation and modes of political action, which were thus not only the result of the pressure exerted by war, but also factors in their outbreak. Was it “War made the state, and the state made war” as Charles Tilly summarised from historical sociology in a famous formula in the mid 1970s?23 This was not exactly so, as in Watts’ opinion, the adoption of a state perspective distorts the nature of those changes, initiated in the 12th and 13th centuries and to understand which the notion of State is nowadays of little use, and is even an encumbrance. This is because, among other reasons, even when it were possible to recognise practices of power identifiable as statist, these were far from being either the only ones or the norm, and placing emphasis on these hinders recognition of “the interaction of a multiplicity of valid and effective power forms and power types” typical of the period.24 And, on the other hand, because the interpretative framework of State growth contributes “surprisingly little”, in fact, to explain the course of political events in the 14th and 15th centuries.25

new gunpowder technology, but European armies remained incoherent, ill-organised and ill-disciplined” (France, John. Perilous Glory: The Rise of Western Military Power. New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 2011: 163). A decade earlier, the same historian had noted the imbalance between the enormous attraction that the military history of the last two centuries of the Middle Ages exerted and the much lesser interest generated by the rest of the period: France, John, “Recent Writing on Medieval Warfare: From the Fall of Rome to c. 1300”. The Journal of Military History, 65/2 (2001): 441-473. For a wide- ranging discussion about continuity and change in European military history between the 14th and 18th centuries, see European Warfare, 1350-1750, ed. Frank Tallet, David J.B. Trim. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2010. 22. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 25. 23. Tilly, Charles. “Reflections on the History of European State-Making”,The Formation of National States in Western Europe, Charles Tilly ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975: 42. For a recent attempt to update and validate Tilly’s theses, associating them with the idea of a series of military revolutions, see Fortmann, Michel. Les Cycles de Mars: révolutions militaires et édification étatique de la Renaissance a nos jours. Paris: Economica, 2010. See also Morillo, Stephen; Michael F. Pavkovic. What Is Military History?. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2013: 77 and following, on the controversies over the very idea of “military revolution”, which bring into relief the relevance of said idea to military history’s rehabilitation as a discipline during the second half of the 20th century (a relevance that seems much less justified in light of its questionable intrinsic consistency and explanatory power). 24. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 32-33. 25. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 33.

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2. Historiography

Naturally, the state or statist focus is far from being recent. After all, history as an academic discipline arose in the 19th century hand in hand with, and in the service to, the State, above all as an exercise in the latter’s legitimation. The original professional historian was a civil servant, an employee charged with a public function that was understood as being exclusive to the State. And in the wake of a statist culture —in which we have been also educated and socialised as citizens since then—, successive generations of historians have grown accustomed to thinking of politics, or the political, in relation with, if not as synonyms of, the State. Identifying the acts or organisational forms characteristic of a given field of action or social experience which the historian isolates and labels as the sphere of politics; identifying thus all of that as “natural”, and all legitimate political power with what is proper of the State, somehow constitutes “historiographic commonsense”.26 The approach that links war, taxation and the configuration of the State is not really an invention of recent decades. In the first decade of the 20th century, Otto Hintze, one of the fathers of modern comparative constitutional history, explicitly indicated the importance of mutual relations between military organisation and state organisation, especially underlining the dependence of the latter on the demands derived from the balance of power between States, a balance basically, if not exclusively, guaranteed by military force.27 Then, just after the end of the Great War, the Austrian economist Joseph Schumpeter, nowadays a classic in his discipline and one who, in contrast with others, never ignored the historical dimension of the problems he dealt with, could state that “taxes not only helped to create the state. They helped to form it”. These taxes had been introduced to cover the growing military expenses of the European princes from the end of the Middle Ages.28 Seen nowadays with hindsight, Hintze’s and Schumpeter’s pioneering works clearly show how not only concepts, but also the burning questions of their time, were projected in historiography. In the former case, this was the state-building of the Second Reich, and in the latter, the fiscal crisis that was intensely debated on the eve of the creation of the First Austrian Republic. However, the golden age of social history in the decades immediately after the Second World War relegated the State to the historiographic background. Obviously, this was linked to the rise of the French Annales and their belligerent rejection of political history, a political history adapted, and sometimes deliberately

26. I appropriate here the expressive utterance coined by Grendi, Edoardo. “Del senso comune storiografico”.Quaderni Storici, 41 (1979): 698-707. 27. Hintze, Otto. “Military Organization and the Organization of the State”, The Historical Essays of Otto Hintze, Felix Gilbert, ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1975: 178-215. For more on Hintze: Schiera, Pierangelo. Otto Hintze. Naples: Guida, 1974. 28. Schumpeter, Joseph. “The Crisis of the Tax State”, The Economics and Sociology of Capitalism, Richard Swedberg, ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991: 99-140, the quote on p. 108. For the context in which Schumpeter elaborated this work, shortly before becoming head of the Treasury in the first government of the Republic of Austria: McCraw, Thomas K. Prophet of Innovation: Joseph Schumpeter and Creative Destruction. Boston: Harvard University Press, 2007: 93-103.

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characterised to condense in the eyes of the annalists everything that served to identify the historiographic enemy, the adversary whose defeat was a condition for their own affirmation. However, I would like to draw attention to the fact that this disappearance or overshadowing of the State was not limited to the discipline of history. The same happened in all the so-called social sciences, just in the decades when history showed its greatest willingness for dialogue with these disciplines (and an even greater inclination to imitate them). It must also be said that this was to the detriment of its traditional proximity and collaboration with philology. It was only in the 1970s that the State returned to the foreground.29 The emergence of American historical sociology, with its renewed interest in the question of the formation of the nation States, together with the rise of the New Institutional Economy, also in the USA, whose dominance in the field of the social sciences did nothing but reflect its condition as a new economic powerhouse and pre-eminent political power on the international stage after the Second World War, were two notable examples of this “return” of the State to the historiographic proscenium promoted from related research fields. This phenomenon remained linked to warfare, with the war being fought then between the two blocks the post-war world had been divided into: the Cold War. In Europe, after 1968, “Western Marxism” seemed to have rediscovered that class struggle finally had to be fought in the political arena, and that also generated renewed attention towards the State as a subject of research. In America, from the 1950s, no less pragmatic considerations inspired what was called the “theory of modernisation”.30 This, converted into foreign policy doctrine, was adopted by the US administration, most notably under Kennedy and Johnson in the 1960s, and applied to counter the attraction that communism could exert in Third World countries. The “theory of modernisation” was an inevitable reference for the social sciences in those decades, one that they had to deal with, either to identify themselves with it, or to mark distances from it. In an autobiographical work, the anthropologist Clifford Geertz remembered its ubiquity until well into the 1970s.31 A dense institutional conglomerate of universities together with government agencies and private foundations was woven around it. The academy does not seem to have been precisely an ivory tower. The theory sprang from the distinction between traditional and modern societies, and postulated the existence of a series of states or stages through which the former, the traditional societies, became modern societies. The State had a relevant role in this development, as “the building of an effective

29. Skocpol, Theda. “Bringing the State back in: strategies of analysis in current research”, Bringing the State back in, Peter B. Evans, Dietrich Rueschemeyer, Theda Skocpol, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1985: 3-43. 30. See, for all, Gilman, Nils. Mandarins of the Future: Modernization Theory in Cold War America. Baltimore & London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003. 31. Geertz, Clifford. “An Inconstant Profession: The Anthropological Life in Interesting Times”. Annual Review of Anthropology, 31 (2002): 1-19.

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centralized national state” constituted “a necessary condition for take-off”.32 The basis for the theory was sought in European history, which thus served as a model that it was aimed to universalise. In fact, what the “theory of modernisation” generated was a mirror relationship between the expectations that it wilfully projected into the future (the future of the poor non-aligned countries) and its reconstruction of the past (the past of the countries which managed to grow rich in the West), which thus inevitably tended to model the latter in line with, or under the influence of, those expectations. What it led to was a kind of “colonisation” also of the West’s own past, of submitting this past to the present. However, historiographically speaking, the “theory of modernisation” has been considered one of “the three main schools of Western historical interpretation in the twentieth century”,33 together with Marxism and the Annales, such was its influence on American historiography in the second half of the last century.34 It was in this intellectual climate that On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State was gestated by Joseph Strayer. Its first version dates from 1961 and it was finally published as the book we all know in 1970.35 While the 1950s in Europe had concluded with “the medieval dissolution of the State”, which Giovanni Tabacco had dutifully detailed when reviewing the most important works about the post- Carolingian period from around the middle of the century,36 the 1960s saw how the state creature was resurrected in America with no need to wait for the end of the Middle Ages, not as a finished reality, but rather as the budding of something “modern”. The operation could well be described as a second episode of the “revolt of the medievalists”, after the first one by another American historian, Charles Homer Haskins, who, in 1927, published The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century,37 which put back the start of “modernity”, pace Burckhardt, to a fully medieval time.

32. Rostow, Walt Whitman. The Stages of Economics Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1960: 7. 33. Appleby, Joyce; Hunt, Lynn; Jacob, Margaret. Telling the Truth about History. New York & London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1994: 78. 34. There were also examples of explicit reception in 1970s European historiography, as shown by Wehler, Hans-Ulrich. Teoria de la modernizzazione e storia. Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 1991 (original ed.: 1975). 35. Strayer, Joseph. On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970: “On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State should be understood”, Bruce Holsinger does not hesitate to state, “not simply as a contribution to the historiography of medieval political formation, but as a central text in the thriving corpus of modernization theory —one that exemplifies a compelling link between its historical claims and the ideological needs of the moment”. Holsinger, Bruce. “Medievalization Theory: From Tocqueville to the Cold War”. American Literary History, 22/4 (2010): 893-912, the quote on pp. 896-897. See also Cantor, Norman F. Inventing the Middle Ages. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1991: 277-286. 36. Tabacco, Giovanni. “La dissoluzione medievale dello stato nella recente storiografia”.Studi medievali, 1/2 (1960): 397-446, later included in Tabacco, Giovanni. Sperimentazioni del potere nell’alto medioevo. Turin: Einaudi, 1993: 245-303. 37. Haskins, Charles Homer. The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century. Cambridge (USA): Harvard University Press, 1927. “The revolt of the medievalists” is, as is known, the title of the last chapter of the classic work by Ferguson, Wallace K. The Renaissance in Historical Thought: Five Centuries of Interpretation. New

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Strayer had been a student and disciple of Haskins, and would be the most loyal follower of the points of view of the master, who is held to be the initiator of North- American professional medievalism and with whom Strayer shared integrally “the project of making the Middle Ages the starting point for modern authority and modern liberty”.38 While, regarding freedom, Haskins dated the birth of the “individual” to the 13th century, regarding authority, Strayer also dated the first stirrings of the State to that same century. One could go as far as to say that Strayer, who simultaneously taught medieval history in Princeton and worked for the CIA, was the incarnation among medievalists of something like “the quiet American” of Graham Greene’s novel.39 In any case, his elitist and paternalistic liberalism prolonged the naive liberal idealism that Haskins represented in the interwar period through the years of the Cold War. On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State and a compilation of other shorter works by Strayer published in 1971, as a kind of conclusion to his career, were glowingly reviewed in Annales in 1972 by Bernard Guenée, who had begun to collaborate with the journal some years earlier, after Charles-Edmond Perrin, a former protégé of Marc Bloch and mentor of Georges Duby, had effusively greeted —as did Duby in Annales itself— the publication of Guenée’s thesis in 1963.40 In 1972, Guenée had also just published the volume of the collection “Nouvelle Clio” about the late-medieval “States”, one that would consecrate him as an essential reference hereafter.41 In the context of French historiography, this was the first attempt to resurrectannaliste - style political history, after the paralysis to which had been condemned because of the determined and combative bid by the journal for social history. It is worth citing Guenée, as he expressed himself in a truly programmatic article in 1964 in which he advocated the legitimacy of a history centred on the relations between rulers and the ruled although still rooted in social reality:

York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1948. More recently, the motto gave rise to an examination of what remains of Haskins’ proposals in the historiography of the recent decades in Melve, Leidulf. “’The revolt of the medievalists’. Directions in recent research on the twelfth-century renaissance”. Journal of Medieval History, 32 (2006): 231-252. See also the recent Noble, Thomas F.X. “Introduction”, European Transformations: The Long Twelfth Century, Thomas F.X. Noble, John Van Engen, eds. Notre Dame, Indiana: Notre Dame University Press, 2012: 1-16. 38. Freedman, Paul; Gabrielle M. Spiegel. “Medievalism Old and New: The Rediscovery of Alterity in North American Medieval Studies”. American Historical Review, 103/3 (1998): 677-704, 683. 39. For his fictional character, the British novelist seems to have been inspired by a real person, increasingly notorious in the 1950s, whose personality and adventures as an agent of the American intelligence services also serves as a thread in the work of historical reconstruction by Nashel, Jonathan, Edward Landsdale’s Cold War. Amherst &Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2005. For Strayer’s links with the CIA and his work as an assessor for the Agency, see Holsinger, Bruce. “Medievalization Theory...”: 897-899. 40. Guenée, Bernard. “Pouvoir politique et féodalité”. Annales Économies Societés Civilisations, 27/3 (1972): 690-691; Guenée, Bernard. “Les origines médiévales de l’État moderne”. Annales Économies Societés Civilisations, 27/3 (1972): 704; Perrin, Charles-Edmond. “Tribunaux et gens de justice dans le bailliage de Senlis à la fin du moyen âge”.Journal des savants (1965): 515-530; Duby, Georges. “Institutions et Société: Une monographie pleine de sève”. Annales Économies, Societés, Civilisations, 19/4 (1964): 795-798. 41. Guenée, Bernard. L’Occident aux XIVe et XVe siècles: Les États. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1971.

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Cette histoire, il faut la nommer. Histoire administrative, histoire institutionelle, histoire des institutions ne conviennent pas. Ce ne sont que des parties du tout qu’on veut définir. Histoire politique conviendrait peut-être, mais le mot a été pris dans un sens si étroit, et si moqué, depuis si longtemps, qu’il serait sans doute responsable de fâcheux malentendus. Pourquoi ne pas parler, comme H. Pirenne et M. Bloch ont pu le faire, d’histoire de l’ État? L’expression n’est pas trop usée; elle est bien vague mais n’est pas compromise; elle nécessite une définition mais se prête à toutes les ambitions. En attendant qu’un esprit inventif mette en circulation un nouvel adjectif, ou que le mot ’politique’ ait terminé son purgatoire et réintegré le paradis de la vraie histoire, je continuerai à parler d’histoire de l’État.42

At the start of the 1970s, the times seemed to help. I have mentioned above the “return of the State” as a characteristic phenomenon of the decade in the field of social sciences. Guenée could regale Strayer from the pages ofAnnales and congratulate himself openly for having an influential ally on the other side of the Atlantic. Duby himself, recently arrived in the Sorbonne, surprised all and sundry by accepting Gallimard’s commission to write Le dimanche de Bouvines, with which, not just political history, but also battle history, the much-maligned éveneméntielle history, seemed to have reached the point of rehabilitation.43 After Duby published the book in 1973, the review by Guenée, again in the pages of Annales, put things in their place and cleared up misunderstandings: the event, réhabilité et même glorifié, est enraciné dans cette histoire des structures et des mentalités sur laquelle a porté l’essentiel de l’effort de l’école historique française dans les cinquante dernières années.44 However, one could think that, in a certain sense, Guenée arrived late. It would not be around the “history of the State”, but rather that of power, an even vaguer, imprecise and elusive term, where the greatest capacity to renew political history would be concentrated in the following decades. And the brilliant idea was soon at home in the early 70s, endorsed by who was already a member of the editorial board of Annales, Jacques Le Goff.45 The 1970s would see the end of many of the

42. “This history requires a name. Administrative history, institutional history, history of the institutions, are of no use. They are no more than parts of the whole that we wish to define. Perhaps political history would serve, but the name has been understood in such a narrow sense and was so long ago turned into an object of ridicule that it would lead to bothersome misunderstandings. Why do we not talk, as H. Pirenne and M. Bloch did, about history of the State? The expression is not too worn; it is very vague and does not commit; it needs a definition but it lends itself to any purpose. While waiting for an inventive spirit to put a new adjective into circulation, or for the word “politics” to end its purgatory and return to the paradise of true history, I will continue to use history of the State”. Guenée, Bernard. “L’histoire de l’État en France à la fin du Moyen Age vue par les historiens français depuis cent ans”.Revue historique, 232/2 (1964): 331-360, 345, then also in Politique et histoire au moyen-âge: recueil d’articles sur l’histoire politique et l’historiographie médiévale (1956-1981). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1981: 3-32. 43. Duby, Georges. La historia continúa. Madrid: Debate, 1992: 120-127. 44. “rehabilitated and even glorified, is rooted in this history of the structures and mentalities to which the bulk of the French historical school has devoted its efforts over the last fifty years”. Guenée, Bernard. “Le dimanche de Bouvines. 27 juillet 1214”. Annales Économies Societés Civilisations, 29/6 (1974): 1523- 1526. 45. Fernández Albadalejo, Pablo. “La historia política: de una encrucijada a otra”, Balance de la historiografía modernista 1973-2001: Actas del VI Coloquio de Metodología Histórica Aplicada (Homenaje al profesor Antonio Eiras Roel). Santiago de Compostela: Xunta de Galicia, 2003: 479-488.

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certainties that the triumphant social history had endorsed in the post-war decades, also those that constituted the marks of identity or the spirit of Annales. The decade would also end announcing the rise of new proposals and new paths that would grow in the 1980s and that, together with the old and more or less renovated paths, have made up the lush historiographic landscape in which we still move. It was then, in the 1980s, when Jean-Philippe Genet took over from Strayer and Guenée (who had directed his thesis) to continue proposing a consideration of the political history of the final centuries of the Middle Ages from a state perspective, of the “genesis of the modern State” as we would now say. Naturally, this did not mean that there were no differences between these three historians. One need only mention the different consideration that they each gave to war as a factor in State development: as a curb or obstacle in Strayer’s case to the main stimulus and motor for Genêt, passing through the scant emphasis that Guenée gave to this question to say the least. Genet himself gives a dense account of his more complex and nuanced approach in the second half of the 90s, when he assesses the well-known and fruitful research programmes he encouraged, reviewing the very diverse traditions and fields of study that converge in his project, which, at the same time, reflected the plurality of independent routes characteristic of the historiography in the last two decades of the 20th century: Genet’s proposal was that of une histoire large (comparative et dans le long terme) du politique (l’État), ancrée profondément dans le social et l’èconomique (le féodalisme), étroitement liée à l’étude des acteurs sociaux (la prosopographie) et à l’histoire culturelle.46 However, what unites Strayer, Guenée and Genet is a shared ascription to a logic of state building when dealing with the political history of the 12th century onwards that is still nowadays a dominant paradigm, although not free of problems (as John Watts reminds us in his recent book) or of alternatives (as we shall see below). Of course, the mere use of the word State or the phrase “modern State” is not nowadays sufficient indication to share this paradigm. The lively debate about this question in recent decades, partly fostered by Genêt’s proposal, has meant that things are currently somewhat more complicated.47 That debate seems today to have mitigated a certain tendency in the 80-90s to generalize, which surely facilitates an assessment that is less contingent, more empirical and more focused. Of greater significance than the use of the noun State, alone or accompanied by the adjective modern or others, is the use of supposedly descriptive and neutral categories (or of contrasts whose value is assumed, like the very common one between public and private) which reveals the presence of the state logic, at least unilateral, as Watts

46. “a broad history (comparative and in the long term) of the political (the State), anchored deeply in the social and economic (feudalism), closely linked to the study of the social actors (the prosopography) and cultural history”. Genet, Jean-Philippe. “La genèse de l’État moderne: Les enjeux d’un programme de recherche”. Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 118 (1997): 3-18, the quote on pp. 10-11. 47. I know no better approach to the trajectory traced by the notion of modern State in 20th-century historiography than the one offered by Benigno, Francesco. Las palabras del tiempo: un ideario para pensar históricamente. Madrid: Cátedra, 2013: 199-222.

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indicates, and which, by determining the questions, conditions the answers the sources are able to offer.

3. Jurisdictional political culture

In a way, Watts’ statement that, apart from French, Spanish historiography has been the most permeable to the interpretative framework centred on the “genesis of the modern State” proposed by Genet can come as a surprise.48 The surprise is due to the fact that from as early as 1960, related or relevant works in Spanish- speaking territories can be identified that could have marked a different orientation and, ultimately, one closer to the posture that the English historian sustains. I am thinking about the latter work of Vicens Vives,49 or the “composite monarchies” of the Hispanist John Elliot,50 to cite two milestones that cover practically all the second half of the 20th century. However, it is true that both Vicens and Elliot concerned themselves with the 16th and 17th centuries; and effectively, it is precisely and perhaps paradoxically in the early-modernist historiography where critical or revisionist positions about the paradigm of the modern State, its logic and architecture, have been expressed more clearly and with more verve. As a result of this, and about the theme of war that concerns us here, Bartolomé Yun, for example, can state in a recent text, that in early modern Europe war was not always a condition for the development of States or fiscal regimes nor did all wars produce this effect.51 That the old regime’s political organization itself could be understood as a proper state-level organization is what others squarely question. Hence, Yun prefers to talk about “fiscal regimes”, and not “fiscal states”, before the th19 century. Hence, one can also sometimes garner the impression that the medievalists are pursuing a chimera,

48. Evidence for this in Fuente, María Jesús. “El Estado ha muerto, ¡viva el Estado! Debates historiográficos sobre el Estado en la Edad Media”.Revista de Historiografía, 9 (2008): 33-49. See also, for contrast, the observations from the start of the same decade by García de Cortázar, José Ángel. “Elementos de definición de los espacios de poder en la Edad Media”,Los espacios de poder en la España medieval. XII Semana de Estudios Medievales (Nájera, 2001), José Ignacio de la Iglesia, José Luis Martín, coords. Logroño: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2002: 13-46. 49. Vicens Vives, Jaime. “Estructura administrativa estatal en los siglos XVI y XVII”, Obra dispersa: España, América, Europa. Barcelona: Vicens-Vives, 1967: 359-377, also in Coyuntura económica y reformismo burgués. Barcelona: Ariel, 1969: 99-141. For the decisive impact of Vicens’ work had had on the change of course in the following years by the Italian historiography interested in this problem, including that focussed on the late Middle Ages, see Isaacs, Ann Katherine. “Twentieth Century Italian Historiography on the State in the Early Modern Period”, Public Power in Europe: Studies in Historical Transformations, James S. Amelang, Sigfried Beer, eds. Pisa: Edizioni Plus, 2006: 17-38. 50. Elliot, John H. “A Europe of Composite Monarchies”. Past and Present, 137 (1992): 48-71, with a Spanish translation in Elliot, John H. España en Europa: Estudios de historia comparada. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2003: 65-91. And see also Elliot, John H. Haciendo historia. Madrid: Taurus, 2012, especially chapter 2. 51. Yun, Bartolomé. “Introduction: the rise of the fiscal state in Eurasia from a global, comparative and transnational perspective”, The Rise of Fiscal States: A Global History, 1500-1914, Bartolomé Yun, Patrick K. O’Brien, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012: 1-36.

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focussed on reconstructing the genesis of something whose reality is, in the best of cases, problematic. This is perhaps a perverse effect, the undesired consequence of an excess of chronological specialisation that not even the great collective work led by Genêt and Wim Blockmans between the 1980s and 90s managed to palliate, given that, as Jacques Krynen later mentioned, that work had allowed medievalists and early-modernists to work beside each other, but not together. Krynen added that le plus grand service que les médiévistes pourraient rendre au Moyen Age serait de cesser de faire exclusivement du Moyen Age... Il nous faut briser la chronologie... Se souvenir que Marc Bloch l’a fait, étudiant un miracle royal.52 In truth, until now, the early-modernists seem more sensitive to what should be contemplated as the historiographic consequences of the current crisis of the nation-state, and for that reason, more aware that this was not the inevitable fate or the obligatory end. They showed more willingness than the late-medievalists to explore the aptitudes and possibilities of a “political history without [a] State”,53 although this could end up being less strange to the latter by only looking at the High Middle Ages and endeavouring not to see only chaos, arbitrariness or confusion, a panorama that would only have begun to change with the modernising impulse that would have meant the renaissance of the 12th century, also politically. From the revisionist viewpoint, the 12th century marked a turning point with regard to political history anyway. However, it was not one that led to institutional development and growing state political culture, but rather to the deployment and configuration of an institutional complex and a jurisdictional political culture that, since the 1980s, has been brought to light by a renewed history of institutions whose leading representatives are from the countries of southern Europe and whose echo has also reached the early-modernists more than it has medievalists. Whatever else, we have to thank these historians (primarily, but not only, legal historians) at least for having identified the issues accurately and raised the problems clearly, which is quite something in a terrain where the conceptual vagueness of some approaches had, for a long time, no alternative but the deductive theoretical elaborations of others. In contrast, the jurisdictional model or paradigm has been built looking to the conceptual universe and the argumentative rhetoric of the sources themselves, and thus addressed through their own discursive context. Among these, the ones that should be considered of a doctrinal nature (a not very theoretical doctrine, but very attached to the praxis, in which that world was also very different from ours) were the result of that “mysterious science” as Edward Gibbon contemptuously dismissed it, in other words, of the science of law in its

52. “the best the medievalists can do for the Middle Ages would be to stop doing exclusively the Middle Ages... We must thwart the chronology... Remember that Marc Bloch has done so studying a real miracle”. Krynen, Jacques. “La souveraineté royale”, Les tendances actuelles de l’histoire du Moyen Âge en France et en Allemagne, Jean-Claude Schmitt, Otto Gerhard Oexle dirs. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002: 299-302. 53. Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “L’histoire politique sans l’État: mutations et reformulations”, Historia a debate, Carlos Barros ed. Santiago de Compostela: Xunta de Galicia, 1995: III, 217-235; García Monerris, Carme; García Monerris, Encarna. “Fragmentos de Monarquía: La possibilitat d’una història política sense estat”. Recerques: història, economía i cultura, 32 (1995): 103-111.

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ius commune stage, a science whose origins can be traced back precisely to the 12th century54 and which was developed from the study of, at times, centuries- old material, ancient reports and norms which, envueltas en farragosos volúmenes de privados y oscuros intérpretes, forman aquella tradición de opiniones que en gran parte de Europa tiene todavía el nombre de leyes, as the Milanese Cesare Beccaria, a close contemporary of Gibbon, also wrote.55 “[The] dregs of the most barbarous ages”, as the latter concluded. It was the mentality of the Enlightenment, whose laudable aims also served to cement the wall of misunderstanding, if not of oblivion, that would subsequently rise between that world and modern historiography. It was left to late medieval and early modern scientia iuris to ascertain and organize the complex and ever-evolving problematic fabric of overlapping and mutually adapting powers that coexisted in the same territories. And it is by virtue of that mission that the law of the time can today be considered the most suitable (being the most direct) approach to the composition, characteristics and logic of that fabric. It might be objected, perhaps, that its proponents’ elaborations are but a construct, to which it could be answered that it is but the necessary theoretical framework that, explicitly or implicitly, also underlies any reconstruction and historical analysis. Unlike the assumptions and deductions many historiographic works rely on, however, some of the most salient features of the jurists’ activity during the period under consideration —above all, their course of action, not systematic but case-based and topical, as well as their purpose, not directly normative, in the sense that their resolutions were not necessarily binding, even less final, but rather simply shaping the communis opinio (the prevailing opinion among experts, always open to contradiction)— make it preferable to consider the results of that activity as the best way today para entender, a su través, las prácticas y el ejercicio del poder.56 In this respect, it is worth recalling the words of Patrick Geary, nearly thirty years ago:

54. Quaglioni, Diego. “Introduzione. La rinovazione del diritto”, Il secolo XII: la “renovatio” dell’Europa cristiana, Giles Constable, Giorgio Cracco, Hagen Keller, Diego Quaglioni, eds. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2003: 17-34. 55. “wrapped in cumbersome volumes of private and dark interpreters, they make up that tradition of opinion that still has the name of laws in much of Europe”. Pardos, Julio A. “El mundo nuevo del derecho”, Historia de Europa, Miguel Artola, dir. Madrid: Espasa, 2007: I, 796-804. The quote from Gibbon is from the last paragraph of chapter 44 of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Romen Empire; the one by Beccaria, from the first paragraph ofDei delitti e delle pene. I cannot resist adding another expressive judgement that the Justinian compilation merited from another contemporary, the Napolitan jurist Gaetano Filangieri, author of La scienza della legislazione: these were “leggi d’un popolo prima libero e poi sciavo, compilate da un giureconsulto perverso sotto un Imperatore imbecille” (“laws of a people first free, then enslaved, compiled by a perverse jurisconsult under an imbecile of an Emperor”), cited by Lazzarich, Diego; Borrelli, Gianfranco. “I Borbone a San Leucio: un esperimento di polizia cristiana”, Alle origini di Minerva trionfante: Caserta e l’utopia di S. Leucio: la costruzione dei siti reali borbonici, Imma Ascione, Giuseppe Cirillo, Gian Maria Piccinelli, eds. Rome: Ministero per i beni e le attività culturali: Direzione generale per gli archivi, 2012: 345-372, specially 347. 56. “to understand, through them, the practice and exercise of power”. Vallejo, Jesús. “El príncipe ante el derecho en la cultura del ius commune”, Manual de historia del derecho. Valencia: Tirant lo Blanch, 2012: 152. The same author introduces in the best way imaginable the modes of reasoning and argumentation of the jurists of the ius commune in “Derecho como cultura: equidad y orden desde la óptica del ius commune”, Historia de la propiedad: patrimonio cultural. III Encuentro interdisciplinar (Salamanca, mayo 2002),

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Les médiévistes doivent commencer à élaborer d’autres schémas conceptuels et les plus utiles, à nos yeux, se truvent dans la riqche littérature, souvent pleine de contradictions, de l’anthropologie juridique. Les historiens du Moyen Age ne sont, en aucun cas, les premiers à découvrir les sociétés aux prises avec des conflits et de diffèrends à résoudre sans l’aide d’institutions juridiques centralisés et impersonnelles qui soient capables de rendre des verdicts définitifs et de les faire respecter. Des telles sociétés sont nombreuses mais, si l’Europe médiévale diffère radicalement du monde des Barotse du Nord Zimbabwe ou des Kung Bushmen du Kalahari expérience des anthropologues qui étudient la fa on dont ces sociétés traitent les tensions sociales peut nous permettre élaborer des concepts pour comprendre Europe médiévale.57

Why not start simply by dealing with concepts from the sources themselves, without translations that end up being misleading? For this, it is worth taking into consideration the medieval and early modern idea of law. Law was not then an expression of power, but rather legal order (ordenamiento), social emanation and not a political imposition, to sum up, auto-organizzazione prima che norma as Paolo Grossi has insisted.58 There was neither confusion between ius and lex nor a monopoly on its production, as would occur much later with the arrival of the State. The normative force of law, which it had, did not come about so much through the legislative path but was more jurisprudential and doctrinal. Then the law was, in short, a reality

Salustiano de Dios, Javier Infante, Ricardo Robledo, Eugenia Torijano, coords. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Registrales, 2003: 53-70. See also Viehweg, Theodor. Tópica y jurisprudencia. Madrid: Taurus, 1964, 1986; Hespanha, António Manuel de. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination of Old European Culture”, Early Modern History and the Social Sciences: Testing the Limits of the Braudel’s Mediterranean, John A. Marino, ed. Kirksville: Truman State University Press, 2001: 191-204, maxime 201 and following. 57. “The medievalists must begin to draw up other conceptual schemes, and to our way of thinking, the most useful are to be found in the rich literature, often full of contradictions, of legal anthropology. In no case are the historians of the Middle Ages the first to discover societies that have to resolve their conflicts and differences without the help of centralised legal institutions in a position to issue and enforce final verdicts. Such societies abound, but while medieval Europe differs radically from the world of the Barotse of Northern Zimbabwe or the Bushmen of the Kalahari, the experience of anthropologists studying how these companies manage social tensions can enable us to develop concepts for understanding medieval Europe”. Geary, Patrick J. “Vivre en conflit dans une France sans État: typologie des mécanismes de règlement des conflits (1050-1200)”.Annales. Économies Sociétés. Civilisations, 41/5 (1986): 1107-1133 (especially 1109-1110). 58. “self-organisation rather than norm“. Grossi, Paolo. Il diritto tra potere e ordinamento. Naples: Editoriale Scientifica, 2005: 9. The essential reference here is obviously Grossi, Paolo.L’ordine giuridico medievale. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1995, but also take advantage of other works by the author now conveniently collected in the anthology Paolo Grossi, ed. Guido Alpa. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 2011, especially “Ordinamento” (46-57), “Un diritto senza Stato (la nozione di autonomia come fondamento della costituzione giuridica medievale)” (66-82) and “Dalla società di società alla insularità dello Stato: fra Medioevo ed Età moderna” (88-107). The far from unambiguous term ordinamento (and its Spanish derivation ordenamiento) is deep-rooted in the juridical traditions of a number of continental European nations, but only recently incorporated into others such as the English, where it is habitually translated as “legal order”. In this respect, see Itzcovich, Giulio. “Legal Order, Legal Pluralism, Fundamental Principles. Europe and Its Law in Three Concepts”. European Law Journal, 18/3 (2012): 358-384. For Grossi’s usage of the term ordinamento, indebted to Santi Romano’s institutionalism, see Locchi, Maria Chiara. “Brief reflections on legal pluralism as a key paradigm of contemporary law in highly differentiated western societies”. Revista Brasileira de Direito, 10/2 (2014), 74-84.

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prior to power. This is the perspective that Grossi has emphasised as necessary to understand the pre-contemporary legal order and this is, however, not usually even suspected by a mentality like ours, forged on the idea that power necessarily has to precede the law. This could undoubtedly be used in its own benefit, but the production of law was not a vital function of power prior to the appearance of the State, the creation and establishment of the former was not part of the physiology of the latter, as would happen at a later stage of European history with the advent of the state subject. Thus the medieval and current conceptions of law (at least the dominant ones in the latter case) are not comparable with each other. This means that, without careful translation, the categories of each conception are totally inadequate, if not aberrant, for explaining one through the other. Regarding the historiographic practice, an important consequence of the above is that law understood as legal order, in the sense thus defined, is not identified with a reductive and simplistic vision of social complexity, like that which tends to endorse the statist conception of law typical of legal positivism and informed the old, 19th- century history of institutions, rightfully maligned in the 20th century by social historians, very especially by medievalists. On the contrary, that understanding expresses that complexity in the legal pluralism and the pullulare di ordinamenti59 it gives rise to and which is a fundamental fact at the basis of the jurisdictionalist perspective of the medieval and early modern societies. However, the law was no more than one, and not the most important, of the many devices destined to guarantee order in those societies. United inextricably to law (or even above the law in cases of conflict with it), religion, then socially equipped with its full prescriptive power, also fulfilled this task.60 Crime was then no more serious than sin.61 In fact, at first, they were indistinguishable, and the primacy of religion meant a conception of order, of social order thus integrated into the natural order, as something preceding the law and unavailable to this. Law was not then seen as creating order; it was only used to make this order clear.62 Its position was assuredly subordinate, because love of God and one’s neighbour (charity, theological virtue) prevailed or should prevail in its social consideration over justice (cardinal virtue), although the latter was also identified with the Creator and Supreme Judge. That is

59. “proliferation of legal orders”. Grossi, Paolo. “Ordinamento...”: 54. 60. Still essential for these questions, Clavero, Bartolomé. Antidora: antropología católica de la economía moderna. Milan: Giuffrè, 1991; Clavero, Bartolomé. “Beati dictum: derecho de linaje, economía de familia y cultura de orden”. Anuario de Historia del Derecho Español, 63-64 (1993-1994): 7-148. 61. With different viewpoints: Clavero, Bartolomé. “Delito y pecado: noción y escala de transgresiones”, Sexo barroco y otras transgresiones premodernas, Francisco Tomás, coord. Madrid: Alianza, 1990: 57-89; Prodi, Paolo. Una storia della giustizia: dal pluralismo dei fori al moderno dualismo tra coscienza e diritto. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2000; Morin, Alejandro. “Pecado e individuo en el marco de una antropología cristiana medieval”. Bulletin du Centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre, Hors série 2. (2008) . 62. Petit, Carlos; Vallejo, Jesús. “La categoria giuridica nella cultura europea del Medioevo”, Storia d’Europa. 3. Il Medioevo: secoli V-XV, Gherardo Ortalli, ed. Turin: Einaudi, 1994: 721-760; Hespanha, António Manuel. Cultura jurídica europea: síntesis de un milenio. Madrid: Tecnos, 2002: 58 and following; Hespanha, António Manuel. “As cores e a instituição da ordem no mundo do antigo regime”. Phronesis: Revista do Curso de Direito da FEAD, 6 (2010): 9-24.

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the reason for the frequent presence in our sources, including the sources of practice or social documents, of a language of love and lovelessness, which historians have not always taken seriously or have even ignored, uncomfortable with a vocabulary that seemed to be a remnant of naivety. This was especially so if it was expressed in the vernacular, in other words, once Western Europe had taken the supposedly irreversible path to institutional modernity, even thought the reality could seem contradictory. The same vocabulary in its Latin version and in documents from the High Middle Ages was less surprising. Amor and amicitia could appear in these, concerning the most serious questions and without embarrassing the historian, with their own semantic and figurative load, since not for nothing were the writers often men of the Church, devoted to God; but this was also because this was prior to the beginnings of said modernity. It was then concluded that, on the basis of the moral value of (more or less ritualized) love and friendship, ways of solving conflicts could efficiently be developed which would eventually be made obsolete by the development and imposition of increasingly stable and rational legal institutions and of ever more centralized dependency. The post-Carolingian guerrae were settled, not with the simple establishment of a neutral peace, but rather with the reestablishment of the amor between the sides in the conflict through the voluntary action as arbiters or mediators of pairs of opponents. As is known, this was the subject of the above- mentioned well-known article by Patrick Geary, then the spokesperson for a historiographic current which has come to be called the “American School” in the study of medieval conflicts and social order.63 The title of one of the first emblematic texts in this current resorted to an apothegm contained in the Leges Henrici Primi, a compilation drawn up in England in the early 12th century: Pactum legem vincit et amor iudicium.64 Nowadays we know, however, of the lasting validity of the principle that supported such a legal axiom, a validity not only limited to the High Middle Ages, but lasting throughout all the Middle Ages65 and beyond.66 The love referred

63. Conflict in Medieval Europe: Changing Perspectives on Society and Culture, Warren C. Brown, Piotr Górecky, eds. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003. 64. White, Stephen D. “Pactum... Legem Vincit et Amor Judicium: The Settlement of Disputes by Compromise in Eleventh-Century Western France”. The American Journal of Legal History, 22 (1978): 281-308, now also in White, Stephen D. Feuding and Peace-Making in Eleventh-Century France. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005. 65. Clanchy, Michael. “Law and Love in the Middle Ages”, Disputes and Settlements: Law and Human Relations in the West, John Bossy, ed. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1983: 47-67; Roebuck, Derek. Mediation and Arbitration in the Middle Ages: England 1154 to 1558. Oxford: Holo Books, 2013; Smail, Daniel Lord. “Telling Tales in Angevin Courts”. French Historical Studies, 20/2 (1997): 183-215; id. The Consumption of Justice: Emotions, Publicity, and Legal Culture in Marseille, 1264-1423. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003; Vallejo, Jesús. “Amor de árbitros: episodio de le sucesión de Per Afán de Ribera el Viejo”, Fallstudien zur spanischen und portugiesischen Justiz: 15. bis 20. Jahrhundert, Johannes-Michael Scholz, ed. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1994: 211-269. 66. Bossy, John. “Postscript”, Disputes and Settlements: Law and Human Relations in the West, John Bossy, ed. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1983: 287-293; Hespanha, António Manuel. La gracia del derecho: economía de la cultura en la Edad Moderna. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1993: maxime chap. 1; Raggio, Osvaldo. “Visto dalla periferia. Formazioni politiche di antico regime e Stato moderno”, Storia d’Europa. 4. L’età moderna: secoli XVI-XVIII, Maurice Aymard, ed. Turin: Einaudi, 1995:

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to should be understood not so much as a subjective mood but more as an objective reality, in the same sense that colours are thought of not so much as a perception of the subject, but more as a quality of the objects. Love is affection, inclination, yes, but it must not submit to the will, which is potencia ciega. ¿Qué se puede esperar de un hombre que tiene más respeto a lo que su voluntad inclina que a lo que la ley de Dios le obliga?67. It was not the viewpoint of the subject, of the individual, that was then privileged socially and institutionally to negotiate and integrate itself into the world.68 For him to control his own life —to use a common expression today—, it would have been necessary to abolish the ordenamiento compuesto,69 at the same time religious and legal, in which he was previously immersed. In its various specific manifestations, the European social and political order of the 12th through the 18th centuries was, in effect, not a compound of individuals but one of persons. Persons who could be identified with individuals, but were not to be mistaken for them; who could be multiplied within a single individual; or require a plurality of them to be constituted, on the other hand. Individuals, in short, were no more than players of one or more roles; and it was the latter, not the former, who held rights and duties, or rather, privileges and functions. The former (the privileges) were expressions of diversity and inequality, and the individuals shared in these, not as such, but rather because of their status or social condition, that is to say, the role or roles they could play, as these roles could also vary, in either time or space. These were the only states (understood as status) existing then. The latter —the functions— responded to an idea of unity that was not equivalent to homogeneity, but rather of an ideally harmonic aggregate of heterogeneous fragments. These were pieces or fragments that, at the same time as they pursued their own aims, contributed to the ordered working of the whole they formed part of. Only in these cases, persons were identified with a body, to the point of becoming it, not a material body but a mystical one, just as the Church was said to be a corpus mysticum. It was, then, an immaterial and immortal body, originated either in a succession of individuals with the same dignity or in a coeval plurality of them in a corporation. And society as a whole, made up of those bodies and with

483-527; Niccoli, Ottavia. Perdonare: idee, pratiche, rituali tra Cinque e Seicento. Rome-Bari: Laterza: 2007; Stringere la pace: teorie e pratiche della conciliazione nell’Europa moderna (secoli XV-XVIII), ed. Paolo Broggio, Maria Pia Paoli. Rome: Viella, 2011; The Charitable Arbitrator: How to Mediate and Arbitrate in Louis XIV’s France, ed. Derek Roebuck. Oxford: Holo Books, 2002; Garriga, Carlos. “Sobre el gobierno de la justicia en Indias (siglos XVI-XVII)”. Revista de Historia del Derecho, 34 (2006): 67-160, especially 143. 67. Covarrubias, Sebastián de. “Voluntad”, Tesoro de la lengua castellana, o española. Madrid: Luis Sánchez impresor, 1611: 76v. And see Hespanha, António Manuel. “La senda amorosa del derecho: amor y iustitia en el discurso jurídico moderno”, Pasiones del jurista: amor, memoria, melancolía, imaginación, Carlos Petit, ed. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1997: 23-56; Hespanha, António Manuel. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination...”; Hespanha, António Manuel de. “As cores e a instituiçao da ordem...”. 68. Alessi, Giorgia. Il soggetto e l’ordine: percorsi dell’individualismo nell’Europa moderna. Turin: Giappichelli, 2006; Clavero, Bartolomé. Happy Constitution: cultura y lengua constitucionales. Madrid: Trotta, 1997: 11-40. 69. “composite order”. Clavero, Bartolomé. “Beati dictum...”: 119. Some convergence can now be appreciated, at least in the approach, in Fletcher, Christopher; Oates, Rosamund. “Afterword: Religious Thought, Political Practices, 1200-1600”. Cultural and Social History, 6/3 (2009): 297-304.

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each of them playing their appointed parts, could be conceived after that organicist pattern (this would become an iconographic as well as a discursive motif, as is well known) and also imagined as a body, that is, as a person. It was these persons then, with a body and of different importance, who shaped that political and social order. About the single individual, not being a person as such, the only socially relevant element was his soul.70 It should be added that this corporate composition, as it is customary to say (with the risk, however, of misunderstandings), was considered part of a natural order and, therefore, unavailable to any political power, for whom the multiplicity of bodies and the relative autonomy of each of them was an irreducible fact. The corporations that, like the cities, had a territorial base, together with the seigneurial entities, could thus survive as political subjects throughout the time of validity of that conception of order, not as vestiges or remains from a certain moment, but rather as consubstantial elements of the same. On the other hand, a feature of that way of understanding the social and political order, in which the autonomy of the pieces that made up the whole is concerned, was their recognized ability to provide their own legal order, with the result that, from this point of view, the whole was a complex mosaic or a far from homogeneous aggregate of iura propria. And this was the most visible manifestation of the iurisdictio that, to a varying extent, was recognised equally as consubstantial to each body (corpus, societas, communitas, universitas, civitas, respublica...) and that was exercised by its head (pars principans). Jurisdiction (iurisdictio and its semantic field in that context, not in ours) was the word that then effectively designated political power.71 The holder was the person who held jurisdiction, each in his own field, but without any hierarchy being able or empowered to suspend or annul what corresponded to each within his own sphere. The consequence can be no other than an understanding of the political framework as a constellation of republics, constantly obliged because of the circumstances to negotiate the composition of the whole, this being the expression of polycentrism that then characterised the possession and exercise of political power. Iurisdictio is first and foremost judicial power, and its holder is primarily the judge, whose activity is mainly focussed on resolving conflicts, giving to each his due suum( cuique tribuere, as the definition of justice states in theDigesto by Ulpianus and that Thomas Aquinas would make his own), in other words, ensuring that each one was in his corresponding place within the pre-established order, the natural order of things. However, iurisdictio was also regulatory power, understood as the power

70. Clavero, Bartolomé. Tantas personas como estados: por una antropología política de la historia europea. Madrid: Tecnos, 1986; Clavero, Bartolomé. “Almas y cuerpos: sujetos del derecho en la Edad moderna”. Studi in memoria di Giovanni Tarello, 1. Milan: Giuffrè, 1990: 153-171; Hespanha, Antonio Manuel. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination...”: 193 and following. 71. The fundamental reference here has to be to none other than Costa, Pietro. Iurisdictio: semantica del potere politico nella pubblicistica medievale (1100-1433). Milan: Giuffrè, 1969, 2002; and, in his wake, Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad, ley consumada: concepción de la potestad normativa, 1250-1350. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1992.

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to interpret, adapt and specify this same natural order in precise circumstances, not as a prerogative to create a new order ex novo. Thus, it corresponded to the holder of the iurisdictio to ensure the maintenance and conservation of an order that preceded him and proceed to restore this in case it was violated, and always doing so in line with the requirements and guarantees of a procedural act. Hence, it has been possible to talk about a medieval-origin concepción panjudicial del gobierno,72 or rappresentazione giustiziale del potere73 that survived throughout the early modern period. Only by resorting on exceptional, justified and equally regulated occasions, to the potestas absoluta accorded in European kingdoms of the time to the incumbent of highest jurisdiction, was the latter able to rule without abiding by the judicial guidelines governing his habitual conduct and course of action; and only by also appealing to their domestic potestas oeconomica, by virtue of the republic being likened to a household (the social order’s basic cell, subject to the pater familias’ discretionary power) were the holders of jurisdiction entitled to act without the restrictions of its exercise. Very briefly, these were the conceptions and values that sustained the social and institutional order prior to the revolutions that led to the world that maybe we still live in.74 Put differently, those concepts and values informed the basic structures that supported the construction and working of the political entities and regimes that really existed then.75 These are, in short, the conceptions and values that encouraged the main rules of the game with which the various competing interests then faced each other and settled their differences. As can be seen, these rules and conceptions were very different from ours. Originally deployed at the height of the Middle Ages —12th and 13th centuries—, they would remain uncontested, practically and substantially, until the 18th, even though, today, we could identify in retrospect certain earlier theoretical elaborations (more or less developed) which only after that date, however, worked their way through and found a practical application. However, one should not be carried away by this genetic or genealogical perspective, a frequent cause, not only of anachronistic readings of the sources, but rather of applying a selection process to these (otherwise inevitable in the work of the historian) that tends to have the perverse effect of decontextualising these and

72. “panjudicial conception of government”. Mannori, Luca. “Justicia y Administración entre Antiguo y Nuevo Régimen”. Revista Jurídica de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 15 (2007): 125-146: 135. 73. “judicial image of power”. Mannori, Luca. Bernardo Sordi. Storia del diritto administrativo. Rome- Bari: Laterza, 2001: 38. 74. Excellent summaries with which to complete or correct if necessary what is presented here are offered by Garriga, Carlos. “Orden jurídico y poder político en el Antiguo Régimen”, Cádiz, 1812: la constitución jurisdiccional, Carlos Garriga, Marta Lorente, eds. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2007: 43-72; Agüero, Alejandro. “Las categorías básicas de la cultura jurisdiccional”. Cuadernos de derecho judicial (2006) 6: 19-58; Costa, Pietro. “Il diritto nell’Europa moderna: strumenti e strategie”, L’etá moderna (secoli XVI-XVIII): Culture, religioni, saperi, Roberto Bizzocchi, ed. (Storia Política e del Mediterraneo, Alessandro Barbero, dir., vol. 11). Rome: Salerno Editrice, 2011: 415-456; Vallejo, Jesús. “El príncipe ante el derecho...”. 75. For all, see Benedictis, Angela de. Politica, governo e istituzioni nell’Europa moderna. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2001.

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thus depriving them of their own logic. As far as genesis is concerned, it is only that of the sources themselves that must not be evaded for a correct and more fertile understanding. However, whereas those rules of the game were not challenged until the date indicated and their liquidation was the result of revolutionary processes generally not free from violence, their application did not occur pacifically and smoothly either. Indeed, their own validity was always subject to confrontation with practices that were, in principle, alien, and the way of dealing with war provides a good example of this. Let us see this quickly and succinctly.

4. War

In the penultimate decade of the 14th century, the canonist Honorat Bovet wrote his famous Arbre des batailles, a work that has been called una auténtica enciclopedia de la caballería,76 and also a verdadero compendio del arte de la guerra and —what interests us more here— an auténtico tratado sobre derecho bélico.77 A Doctor in Decrees from the University of Avignon and prior of a small Benedictine establishment in Selonnet, in Upper Provence, Bovet is not thought of, however, as someone dedicated to studies and the contemplative life. His desire to intervene in the political and religious affairs surrounding the Western Schism is not only behind his works, but also seems to have led him to be an active member of Charles VI’s close circle; it is to King Charles that the Arbre is dedicated. The fact that today almost a hundred manuscript copies have survived and that the work was the subject of nine printed editions between 1477 and 1515 gives an idea of its extraordinary spread. Written in the vernacular and soon translated into other vernacular languages, it can be said that it was a work of dissemination of doctrine on war as it had crystallized in the first phase of maturity of the ius commune. The imprint of Bartolo da Sassoferrato and Giovanni da Legnano (the author of the first realde bello treatise barely thirty years earlier) can easily be traced in Bovet’s work. Habitually found in noble libraries all over Europe, in Castile, just before the mid 14th century, Íñigo López de Mendoza and Álvaro de Luna did not hesitate to agree on one thing: to commission translations of a book tan leido por los caballeros como una autoridad sobre las leyes de la guerra.78 In one of these

76. “an authentic encyclopaedia of chivalry”, Gómez Moreno, Ángel. “La militia clásica y la caballería medieval: las lecturas de re militari entre Medievo y Renacimiento”. Evphrosyne: Revista de Filologia Clássica, 23 (1995): 83-97: 96. 77. “true compendium of the art of war”; “authentic treatise on the law of armed conflict”. For both remarks: Contreras, Antonio. “Estudio introductorio” Honoré de Bouvet, Árbol de batallas: versión castellana atribuida a Diego de Valera, ed. Antonio Contreras. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa, 2008: 13- 29. The attribution of this Spanish translation to Diego de Valera is dubious. Against this opinion, for example: Velasco, Jesús R. El debate sobre la caballería en el siglo XV: la tratadística caballeresca castellana en su marco europeo. Valladolid: Junta de Castilla y León, 1996: 116-119, 221-222, 392-393. 78. “So widely read by knights as an authority on the laws of war”. Keen, Maurice. La caballería. Barcelona: Ariel, 1986: 308. For this, simply refer also to: Biu, Hélène. La traduction occitane de l’Arbre

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translations, the one commissioned by the Constable of Castile, we can read the following under the heading “Si otro príncipe qu’el Enperador puede ordenar guerra”:

Aquí conviene que sepamos si los otros príncipes pueden mandar hazer guerra. E yo vos respondo que sí, según derecho; mas otra presona no puede mandar hazer guerra. E la razón es que non pueden ni deve ninguno traer armas sin licencia del príncipe. E ay otra razón, que ninguno no puede ni deve tomar derecho de otro si le á hecho tuerto; mas conviene qu’el principe le haga justicia. Mas el día de oy cada uno manda hazer guerra, lo cual de derecho hazer no se deve.79

The text clearly expresses the growing restriction of the concept of war that would be imposed on a culture modelled by the European ius commune. Only the prince, the individual or collective person that holds the maximum iurisdictio and does not acknowledge a higher instance, can declare war; therefore, one can only speak authoritatively of wars when they are declared and led by the prince. That said, liable to contradiction and with its application subject to a jurisprudential (not legal) regime, that doctrine, in the end an opinion, but a qualified one, extracting all its authority and normative force from endless exegesis and commentary of revered texts as well as from the degree of consensus about them, would not be entirely peaceful until the late 16th century, in a context torn by the wars of religion.80 And the attitude of the jurists had an exact parallel among the theologians. While, in his famous formula about the three requisites a war had to comply with to be considered just, Thomas Aquinas had reserved the first place for the auctoritas principis, so that the potestas bellandi only corresponded licitly to him,81 nearly three centuries later, Francisco de Vitoria, after developing a wider and more inclusive concept of war than Aquinas’, where the prince had exclusive des batailles de Honorat Bovet. Paris: École Nationale de Chartes (PhD Dissertation), 2000 ; Álvarez, M. Carmen. “La biblioteca de Don Fadrique Enríquez de Ribera, I Marqués de Tarifa (1532)”. Historia. Instituciones. Documentos, 13 (1986): 1-40; Çeçen, Zeynep K. Interpreting Warfare and Knighthood in Late Medieval France: Writers and their Sources in the Reign of King Charles VI (1380-1422). Ankara: Bilkent University (PhD Dissertation), 2012 ; Taylor, Craig. Chivalry and the Ideals of Knighthood in France during the Hundred Years War. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2013. 79. “Here it is worth us knowing if the other princes can order war to be made. And I answer you that yes, according to law; no other person can order war to be made. And the reason is that they cannot nor should not carry arms without permission of the prince. And there is another reason, that no-one can nor should take revenge against he who injures him, but it is necessary for the prince to impose justice. Currently, every one wages war against everyone else, which is against the law and must not be done.” Árbol de batallas: versión castellana...: 86. 80. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine de la guerre juste. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1983: 134 and following. See also Quaglioni, Diego. “Pour une histoire du droit de guerre au début de l’âge moderne: Bodin, Gentili, Grotius”. Laboratoire italien, 10 (2010): 27-43 (with an Italian version in Teatri di guerra: rappresentazioni e discorsi tra età moderna ed età contemporanea, Angela De Benedictis, Clizia Magoni, eds. Bologna: Bononia University Press, 2010: 29-42), emphasising how war will continue to be thought of in legal terms and assimilating it to a legal process, in perfect consonance with the way of understanding political power essentially as iurisdictio. 81. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine...: 122 and following; Russell, Frederick H. The Just War in the Middle Ages. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1975: 267 and following.

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rights only to a war of aggression (since the prince is the legitimate holder of an authority that resides in the communitas or respublica perfecta he presides over), still elaborates with numerous examples for the sake of clarity:

Ex quibus sequitur, quod alii reguli seu principes, qui non praesunt rei publicae, non possunt bellum inferre aut gerere, quemadmodum dux Albanus aut comes Beneventanus. Sunt enim partes regni Castellae et per consequens non habent perfectas res publicas, sed truncatas. Sed est notandum, quod cum haec sint magna ex parte aut iure gentium aut humano, consuetudo potest dare facultatem belli gerendi. Unde si quae civitas aut princeps obtinuit antiqua consuetudine ius gerendi per se bellum, non est ei neganda haec auctoritas, etiam si alias non esset res publica perfecta. Item etiam necessitas hanc licentiam et auctoritatem concedere posset.82

Hardly a decade after the death of Thomas Aquinas and culminating what could be called the purposeful movement to develop coutumiers that arose in France during the 13th century, Philippe de Beaumanoir wrote Li livres des coustumes et des usages de Beauvoisins,83 whose chapter LIX was dedicated precisely to wars, comment guerre se fet et comment guerre faut, in reality a compilation of the customary rules that covered the droit de guerre recognised to the gentius hommes, i.e. the nobles, car autre que gentil homme ne pueent guerroier.84 Even with this restriction, the contrast with the position of Doctor Angelicus could not be clearer, and the difference was in the custom, the same factor that, two and a half centuries later, was enough for Francisco de Vitoria to consider the resort to war by the initiative of the non-sovereign civitas aut princeps licit.85 Although a theologian, Vitoria did not restrict his choice of authorities, and like other specialists in his field, he appealed to the Fathers of the Church and the Philosopher together with such other renowned jurists as Bartolus and Panormitanus in his argumentation about what authority was competent to declare and wage war, an argumentation headed by a quotation from the Digest. Indeed, in the culture forged by these jurists, custom was not below the law86; both were regarded as the revelation of an identical, unalterable order.

82. Vitoria, Francisco de. De iure belli, Carlo Galli, ed. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 2005: 24 (II, 3). 83. Beaumanoir, Philippe de. Coutumes de Beauvaisis, ed. Amédée Salmon, Paris: Picard, 1899. A comparative approach to the Coutumes in Miller, Samuel J.T. “The Position of the King in Bracton and Beaumanoir”. Speculum, 31/2 (1956): 263-296; and biographically in Lécuyer, Sylvie. “Un idéal social, politique et religieux transmis de père en fils: du roman deJehan et Blonde aux Coutumes de Beauvaisis”. Revue des Langues Romanes, 1 (2000): 129-142. 84. “How the war is done and how it must be done”, “the law of war”, “only knights and nobles can wage war”. Beaumanoir, Philippe de. Coutumes de Beauvaisis...: II, 357. See also the contemporary episode, offered as an example in Bordier, Henri Léonard. Philippe de Remi, sire de Beaumanoir, jurisconsulte et poëte national du Beauvaisis, 1246-1296. Paris: Librairie Techener, 1869: 81-93. 85. The idea of sovereignty must be understood here in the only sense for that time: the person who held it was exempt from the judgment of another, that is, not subject to a higher iurisdictio. Costa, Pietro. “La soberanía en la cultura político-jurídica medieval: imágenes y teorías”. Res publica, 17 (2007): 33-58. 86. Petit, Carlos; Vallejo, Jesús. “La categoria giuridica”...: 748-749; and with more technical forcefulness: Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad, ley consumada...

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Mas el día de oy cada uno manda hazer guerra, lo cual de derecho hazer no se deve.87 Remember that this is how the fragment of the Árbol de batallas mentioned above ended. Honorat Bovet undoubtedly tacitly left there his testimony about the wars that ravaged Provence after the death of Queen Joanna of Naples in 1382. It is a shame that nowadays we have no critical edition of the Arbre, as it would also be worth comparing the text of the Castilian translation we have been dealing with (A) with the French. Let us do so anyway with the two version of the latter: the only existing modern edition, already long in the tooth and based on a manuscript from 1456 from the Royal Library of Belgium88 (B), and an incunable form from 1493 kept in the National Library of France89 (C):

A. B. C. Si otro príncipe qu’el Enperador Se ung altre prince que Se aultre prince que lempereur puede ordenar guerra. l’empereur peut ordonner guerre. peut ordonner ne commander Aquí conviene que sepamos si los Puisque je vous ay dit et moustré guerre. otros príncipes pueden mandar comment l’empereur peut Presce que je vous ay dit comment hazer guerra. E yo vos respondo ordonner et commander guerre, lempereur peut ordonner guerre, que sí, según derecho; mas otra maintenant nous convient il nous convient il scavoir se le presona no puede mandar hazer sçavoir comment ainsi le feront feront les autres seigneurs, cest guerra. E la razón es que non les aultres princes cèst a dire se a scavoir, silz pourront ordonner pueden ni deve ninguno traer ils pourront ordonner guerre. A guerre. Je vous dy que ouy selon armas sin licencia del príncipe. quoy je vous respons que ouy droit, car le conseil de faire guerre E ay otra razón, que ninguno selon droit, car le conseil de faire est par devers les seigneurs se no puede ni deve tomar derecho guerre est devers les princes, ainsi dient les drois. Mais selon verite de otro si le á hecho tuerto; mas que dient les loix, mais selon la aultre personne qui ne soit prince conviene qu’el príncipe le haga verité, aultre personne qui ne ne peut commander guerre justicia. Mas el día de oy cada soit prince ne peut commander generalle. Et ceste est la raison: uno manda hazer guerra, lo cual guerre generale. Et la raison si car nul ne peut ne doit porter de derecho hazer no se deve. est, car nuls ne doit ne ne peut armes sans la licence des princes. porter armes sans la licence du La seconde raison est car vng prince. Et aussi selon l’aultre homme ne peut pas prandre droit raison ung homme ne peut pas de vng autre se tort il lui tient, de soy mesme prendre de faire mais comment (sic) que le prince droit de ung aultre se tort lui face iustice entre ses hommes. tient, mais il est necessaire que Touttefois au iourduy chescun le prince fasse justice entre ses veult commander guerre, hommes. Toutefois aujourd’huy mesmement vng chevalier contre chascun veult commander guerre vng autre, ce que faire ne se doit et mesme ung simple chevalier selon les drois. contre ung aultre. Ce que faire ne se doit selon les droits.

87. “Currently, every one wages war against others, which is against the law and must not be done”. 88. L’arbre des batailles d’Honoré Bonet, ed. Ernest Nys. Bruselas: C. Muquardt, 1883: 90-91. 89. Bonet, Honorat (Honoré Bouvet). L’arbre des batailles. Paris: Antoine Vérard, 1493 .

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As can be seen, the Castilian translation obscures the precise reason Bovet’s initially affirmative answer to the question was based on. Princes other than the emperor can order and wage war, because “le conseil de faire guerre” belongs to them by law. At this point, the incunable used the more general term “seigneurs”, avoiding the ambiguity in the use of “prince” and thus establishing more clearly what, in contrast, is reserved solely for the prince, that is, the “guerre generale”. However, the Castilian version also eludes this precision. Was this simple economy in the translation or a deliberate political option? We can resort to yet another comparison, this time with a Catalan translation of 1429, and thus, earlier than the Castilian and whose manuscript is also in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France:

Apres que vous he dit com lemperador pot ordonar e començar guerra nos coue saber com ho faran los altres princeps, co es a dir, a dir si ells poden ordonar guerra, e dits vos que hoc, segons dret. Car lo conseil de fer guerra es ab los princeps, ço diu lo dret. Mas segons dret altra persona que no sia princep no pot ordonar guerra general. E aço es la raho: car nengun no deu portar armes ses licencia del princep segons les leys. Laltra raho si es car vn hom no pot pendre dret de un altre si li te tort, mas fa que lo princep fara justicia entre aquestes. Tota vegada, al jorn de huy tot hom vol comandar guerra, hoc un simple cavaller contra vn altre, ço que pas nos deu fer segons los drets.90

As we see, the Castilian version is resolutely abbreviated and, in this sense, less true to an archetype which both the earlier and later versions appear to be closer and better adjusted to. Naturally, the result of the operation is far from being innocuous, although we cannot take this conclusion any further now without entering into the realm of conjecture. In any case, what is shown as evidence is that the restrictive position held by Bovet regarding the right of war did not reflect the rather antagonistic reality that surrounded him. He left both things clear at the end of his argument. We now know that his posture, far from being unanimously accepted, even among theologians and jurists, would take time to impose itself. And in recent decades, historians have continued to pay redoubled attention to the violent outbreaks of the multiple forms of feud, the inimicitia, significantly persistent throughout the Middle Ages and a good part of the Early Modern period which would confirm all of the above through action —unless, of course, one teleologically refuses to see in it anything

90. “Given that I comment to you that the emperor can order to start the war, we must know how the other princes can do it, that is, if they can order the war to start, and the answer is so, according to the law, because the law says that the advice to wage war belongs to the princes. According to the law only the princes can order general war. The reason is that no one can take arms without licence from the prince, according to the law. Another reason is that no one can avenge the injuries from other person and only the prince can impose justice among them. Anyway, nowadays anyone wishing to command war, even a simple knight against another, although this is not allowed according to the law.” Bibliothèque nationale de France. MSS Espagnol, 206 : “Aquest libre ha fet tralladar lo honorable mossen Ramon de Caldes en lany mil CCCC XXIX, lo qual ha escrit Loren Rexarch...”.

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more than a residue from the past and a factual liability for the future.91 Fehden in Franconia,92 seigneurial guerrae in Languedoc,93 inimicitiae between lineages in Siena94 and fights betweenfazioni in the Duchy of Milan95 or between bandos in Basque lands,96 also bandositats in the kingdom of Valencia97 or aristocratic feuds in England,98 to cite only a few examples from recent publications, show, beyond the indubitable local peculiarities, the strength and general nature of the phenomenon of the noble feud between the 13th and 16th centuries. It can be said, therefore, that the feud constituted one of these “frames and forms and patterns in which politics took place” that John Watts designates (always susceptible to being adapted and manipulated) as structures, “the basic currencies in which later medieval politics were conducted”, a structure moreover “that received contemporary recognition”, as those the English historian believes should be given priority in the analysis.99

91. For an overview of the literature produced in this field by the historiography from the Anglo-German area, see Feud in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Jeppe B. Netterstrøm, Bjørn Poulsen, eds. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2007. But one should not neglect the contribution of Italian historiography, of which we should mention at least: Zorzi, Andrea. “Ius erat in armis: faide e conflitti tra pratiche sociali e pratiche di governo”, Origini dello Stato: processi di formazione statale in Italia fra medioevo ed età moderna, Giorgio Chittolini, Anthony Molho, Pierangelo Schiera, eds. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1994: 609-629; Zorzi, Andrea. “I conflitti nell’Italia comunale: riflessioni sullo stato degli studi e sulle prospettive di ricerca”, Conflitti, paci e vendette nell’Italia comunale, Andrea Zorzi, ed. Florence: Firenze University Press, 2009: 7-41. Published too late to review here is also Povolo, Claudio. “Faida e vendetta tra consuetudini e riti processuali”. Storica, 56-57 (2013): 53-103, with an english version in “Feud and vendetta: customs and trial rites in Medieval and Modern Europe. A legal-anthropological approach”. Acta Historiae, 23/2 (2015): 195-244. 92. Zmora, Hillay. The Feud in Early Modern Germany. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2011, and the summary dedicated to this by Stuart Carroll in: H-HRE, H-Net Reviews, October 2012 . 93. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seigneurial War and Royal Power in Later Medieval Southern France”. Past and Present, 208 (2010): 37-76. 94. Théry, Julien. “Faide nobiliaire et justice inquisitoire de la papauté à Sienne au temps des Neuf: les recollectiones d’une enquête de Benoît XII contre l’évêque Donosdeo de’ Malavolti (ASV. Collectoriae, 61A and 404ª)”, Als die Welt in die Akten kam: Prozeßschriftgut im europäischen Mittelalter, Susanne Lepsius, Thomas Wetzstein, eds. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2008: 275-345. 95. Gentile, Marco. Fazioni al governo: politica e sicietà a Parma nel Quattrocento. Rome: Viella, 2009. 96. Fernández de Larrea, Jon Andoni. “Las guerras privadas: el ejemplo de los bandos oñacino y gamboíno en el País Vasco”. Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 85-109; Urizar, Hiart. “Las guerras de bandos en Markina: una aproximación”. Vasconia, 38 (2012): 41-66. 97. Ponsoda, Santiago; Soler, Juan Leonardo. “Violencia nobiliaria en el sur del reino de Valencia a finales de la Edad Media”.Anales de la Universidad de Alicante: Historia Medieval, 16 (2009-2010): 319-347. 98. Kaminsky, Howard. “The Noble Feud in the Later Middle Ages”. Past and Present, 177 (2002): 55-83; Armstrong, Jackson W. “Violence and Peacemaking in the English Marches towards Scotland, c.1425- 1440”, The Fifteenth Century 6: Identity and Insurgency in the Late Middle Ages, Linda Clark, ed. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 2006: 53-72. 99. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 34-42; Meanwhile, Stuart Carroll. Blood and Violence in Early Modern France. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006: 7, states that, “Feuding was integral to the conduct of politics in early modern France because it was one of the key forms of competition for power, a mechanism by which the struggle for dominance was played out. Nevertheless, when kings were able to satisfy the ambitions of the social elite, feuds did not result in disorder or high levels of bloodletting”.

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Otherwise, there is no solution of continuity, as sometimes professed,100 between feud and war. Qualitatively speaking, the former is an eventual manifestation of the latter in the same sense we now habitually give to war as a circumstantial manifestation of international relations. Of course, the word feud, of Germanic origin, as is war, is an infrequent term in the sources, if not completely absent in those from after the 13th century except for the case of the German fehde. However, I believe that it is less equivocal than the expression “private war”, or serves better to avoid precisely the ambiguity that results from the use of that expression, behind which lies an undoubtedly modern idea about war that associates it uniquely and by definition with the State. Indeed, in the culture of Europeanius commune, not only was there the notion of the distinction between public and private, but this distinction was fundamental precisely in the conceptualisation of political power, in other words, of iurisdictio. This has been defined since the time of theglossa and without substantial changes in later centuries, as potestas de publico introducta cum necessitate iuris dicendi aequitatisque statuendae.101 It is a different thing, however, whether this translated into something more than the defining ofiurisdictio regarding what was beyond its reach by being confined to the private households, as the jurists of the ius commune, even with a basis and materials suitable for this, showed no interest or provision, as is known, in organising the materia iuris in public law, on the one hand, and private law, on the other.102 Among other reasons, it is precisely this ingrained reluctance which, deployed before the question of whether ha senso chiedersi se la faida fosse un regolamento di conti privato o un ’conflitto internazionale’?, led Stefano Mannoni to respond, no, con tutta probabilità e, se propio si vuole, allo stadio finora raggiunto dalla storiografia.103 Actually, if it did not sound too emphatic and even somewhat solemn, one could say that in the beginning everything was feud; with its privileges, which it had, the king’s wars included.104 Or, if you prefer, war was any alteration, any disturbance of the peace, any form of conflict resolved by resorting to the force of arms. Such a disorder could occur with varying repercussions involving a greater or smaller number of individuals, but conceptually there was no difference. And this

100. More among anthropologists than historians. Notterstrøm, Jeppe Büchert. “Introduction: The Study of Feud in Medieval and Early Modern History”, Feud in Medieval and Early Modern Europe: Jeppe Bückert Netterstrøn; Bjørn Poulsen, eds. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2007: 46-48. 101. See Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad...: 40-49. 102. Chevrier, Georges. “Remarques sur l’introduction et les vicissitudes de la distinction du ’jus privatum’ et du ’jus publicum’ dans les oeuvres des anciens juristes français”. Archives de philosophie du droit, 1 (1952): 5-77. On the importance of the question in the political order and the way it affects the historiographic practice, Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “El pasado republicano del espacio público”, Los espacios públicos en Iberoamérica: ambigüedades y problemas: siglos XVIII-XIX, François-Xavier Guerra, Annick Lempérière, eds. Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1998: 27-53. 103. “there is any sense asking whether the feud was a private settling of scores or an ’international conflict’?”, “no, not in all probability and in the current state of historiography if you like”. Mannoni, Stefano. “Relazioni internazionali”, Lo Stato moderno in Europa: istituzioni e diritto, Maurizio Fioravanti, ed. Rome-Bari: Laterza: 2002: 206-229: 208. 104. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine...: 76 and following.

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identification of such a wide and diverse range of events with war would last long, as Merio Scattola was able to see:

Ancora nel Seicento gli autori politici continuano a chiedersi come debbano essere interpretate le diverse forme di conflitto e rispondono che guerra è lo scontro tra autorità pubbliche, ma è anche il contrasto tra privati oppure quello misto tra persone private e persone pubbliche. Guerra è in primo luogo il duello, ma guerra sono allo stesso tempo anche le repressaliae, le faide tra casati nobili, tra città o tra altre forme di potestà, come guerra è la ’legittima difesa’ del magistrato inferiore contro i comandi iniqui del re e l’autodifesa del privato assalito da un predone, fosse costui anche l’imperatore in persona, quando la pubblica autorità non può intervenire in tempo.105

In line, as we saw, with a reasoning that was both topical and casuistic, not axiomatic, and prudential, not epistemic, jurists and theologians106 dispensed with a prior definition, a pre-stablished concept, of therefore a strict and fixed delimitation of what war is. This is simply part of the phenomenology of the conflict, which is in turn intrinsic to the social reality and does not constitute, in that mode of reasoning, a subject of theory, but rather a matter to examine from the varied and changing experience, in response to the specific and substantive issues that arise from each case related with justice and morality, with the order of law and that of theology. Hence, the reflection on war did not constitute an autonomous body of knowledge, a self-sufficient subject, but instead became a tradition of thought on just war, that is, about the conditions war must meet to avoid clashing with the principles and values that the aforementioned disciplines had it in their charge to rule. However, the practice of war broadly understood as feud, which envisaged and also included formulas and specific rites of achievement and restoration of peace as a corollary, is much earlier than the intellectual tradition —starting not before the 12th century— of just war, although much the configuration of the latter certainly used materials that were just as old.107 We have already referred above to a whole historiography effectively focussed on the study of conflicts, their warlike manifestations and the extrajudicial mechanisms for resolving them in the immediately post-Carolingian centuries, a period that has been considered l’âge d’or de la faide.108 How then did the architects and those who generally accepted the just

105. “Still in the 17th century, the political authors continued asking themselves how the diverse forms of conflict should be interpreted, and they answered that war is the clash between public powers, but also the discord between individuals, or of a mixed nature between private and public people. In first place war is the duel, plus war is at the same time and equally the represaliae, the faide between noble lineages, between cities or between other forms of power, as war is the ’legitimate defence’ of the lower magistrate against the king’s wicked commands and the self-defence of the individual attacked by a robber, although this be the emperor in person, when the public authority fails to intervene in time”. Scattola, Merio. “Introduzione”, Figure della guerra: la riflessione su pace, conflitto e giustizia tra Medioevo e prima età moderna, Merio Scattola, ed. Milan: Franco Angeli, 2003: 16-17. 106. Villey, Michel. Questions de Saint Thomas sur le droit et la politique. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1987. 107. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine...: 11 and following. 108. “the golden age of feud”. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine...: 81.

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war tradition doctrinally and practically face the widespread and enduring reality of feud after that time, as we have also had occasion to note? There were two traits of mentality and culture that sustained the feud. In the first place, there was the idea that we speak disapprovingly of nowadays, namely “taking justice into one’s own hands”. This, however, was an idea and a practice that, under certain circumstances, basically which allowed one to invoke legitimate defence, could be accepted and accommodated by scholastic culture and particularly by its legal expression, the ius commune, especially because the latter will always regard the resort to war as an exsecutio iuris, all the more legitimate when it was somebody endowed with iurisdictio —thus a public entity— who enacted this and put it into effect109. It is true that from the 13th century, in the most urbanised regions of Europe, other developments and thus other values were moving slowly in the opposite direction. Without leaving the subject of law, the increased scope for initiative for a judge in the procedural sphere, which would allow him to act inquisitorially ex officio, will then be at the starting point of a change of direction in the history of penal justice with undeniable consequences for the element of revenge inherent to the feud.110 That enlarged capacity of intervention by the judge (in other words, by a political power) will unhesitatingly be justified formally by invoking custom, not the law, and the novel principle on the merits that offence does not just harm its victim but also the civitas or communitas (since it infringes the pax publica). This is a good example of the not always concurrent, but often contradictory, tendencies that could arise within the ius commune and that, after all, reflected those of the same nature in the social reality that the law attempted to regulate. At the same time, discourses proliferating since the 13th century extolling the value of peace as a foundation of social order —at times voiced as movements for peace-keeping, as seen especially in Italian cities— also targeted the practice of vendetta. Nevertheless, as Andrea Zorzi aptly remarks in this respect, i valori del discorso politico non erano neutri, ma appartenevano a un registro variabile declinato nel vivo del conflitto politico, 111 which cautions against drawing an absolute and generalized antithesis between peace-extolling discourses on one hand, and the practice of revenge on the other. In fact, far from being incompatible with, or unrelated to, the feud, peace was the other side of the coin, its second trait of cultural identity. This peace was, however, understood as the maintenance and continuous renovation of an order and a

109. Quaglioni, Diego. “Le ragioni della guerra e della pace”, Pace e guerra nel basso medioevo: atti del XL Convegno storico internazionale (Todi, oct. 2003). Spoleto: Fondazione Centro Italiano di Studi Sull’Alto. Medio Evo, 2004: 113-129; Quaglioni, Diego. “Pour une histoire du droit de guerre...”. 110. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Vidi communiter observari: l’emmersione di un ordine penale pubblico nelle città italiane del secolo XIII”. Quaderni fiorentini per la storia del pensiero giuridico moderno, 27 (1998): 232-268. 111. “the values of political discourse were anything but neutral, they were incorporated into a changing register that adapted itself to each occasion of political conflict”. Zorzi, Andrea. Fracta“ est civitas magna in tres partes: conflitto e costituzione nell’Italia comunale”.Scienza & Politica, 39 (2008): 61-87: 68. On the proliferation of the motif of peace in sermons and political discourses: Prêcher la paix et discipliner la société: Italie, France, Angleterre (XIIIe-XVe siècles), Rosa Maria Dessi, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 2005; Offenstadt, Nicolas. Faire la paix au Moyen Âge: discours et gestes de paix pendant la guerre de Cent Ans. Paris: Odile Jacob, 2007.

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balance considered natural rather than the mere absence of war. The same was true for a peace, not imposed, but achieved through mutual compensation and entrusted with the permanent threat of war, but also pacts and negotiation. In this respect, European ius commune did not lack the capacity to integrate the feud, as it shared the presupposition of the existence of an immutable natural order that reached the social reality and that had to be safeguarded at any cost, as it was identified with justice itself. However, the development of this law would also open the path for a distinct way of achieving this target that would end up prevailing and would continue to have consequences in relation with war, the notion of this and its practice. To use a fortunate and expressive formula, this was the way that led from a negotiated, communal and restorative justice to another hegemonic or bureaucratic and of a punitive character.112 Or, in another no less intuitively revealing statement, from a peace-centered order to public order.113 Shortly after 1750, one could read Crimen fractae pacis publicae constituunt etiam diffidationes, seu bella priuatorum in a manual of what we would nowadays call penal law, whose author still did not forget the contrast that this represented with earlier times explicitly referred to as prior to the 1600s, as those wars, that could no longer called as such without specifying, olim, vi iuris manuarii, omnibus, summis et imis permissa, quia ius belli gerendi tunc temporis non erat regale, vt hodie.114 There was talk in this step of crimes contra securitatem et vtilitatem publicam and the manual was German, but, in general lines, the diagnosis was valid for all Europe. The aforesaid novelties and changes of orientation, some hardly insinuated in the 13th century, would take centuries to assert themselves and displace or subordinate earlier ideas and uses, so many that, even without going beyond the corresponding chronological limits of the validity of the ius commune, only from an exaggeratedly teleological perspective can one ignore or relegate such ideas and uses in order to explain the late medieval and early modern centuries. There is no lack of arguments to sustain that the assembly of all the components of what is commonly known as the doctrine of just war did not really come about until around 1500.115 We know that one of these pieces, the one that reserved the exclusive right to wage war to the sovereign prince, would not garner general adhesion until the end of the 16th century. Under these conditions, the two above-mentioned characteristic aspects of

112. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia negoziata, giustizia egemonica: riflessioni su una nueva fase degli studi di storia della giustizia criminale”, Criminalità e giustizia in Germania e in Italia: pratiche giudiziarie e linguaggi giuridici tra tardo medioevo ed età moderna, Marco Bellabarba, Gerd Schwerhoff, Andrea Zorzi, eds. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2001: 345-364; Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale”, Lo Stato moderno in Europa...: 163-205. 113. Povolo, Claudio. “Dall’ordine della pace all’ordine pubblico: uno sguardo da Venezia e il suo stato territoriale (secoli XVI-XVIII)”, Processo e difesa penale in età moderna: Venezia e il suo stato territoriale, Claudio Povolo, ed. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2007; 15-107. 114. Meister, Christian Georg Friedrich. Principia iuris criminalis Germaniae communis. Göttingen: Victorino Bossiegel, 1780: 242. The first edition dates from 1755. 115. Johnson, James Turner. Ideology, Reason, and the Limitation of War: Religious and Secular Concepts, 1200- 1740. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975: 8.

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the feud, not foreign to the protean and versatile system of ius commune,116 would still enjoy long vitality. A deeply-rooted culture of revenge, not at all irreconcilable with caritas117 nor always with misericordia118, could continue to be deployed after the 13th century, a culture nowadays increasingly dealt with and better known to historians.119 The two modes of justice mentioned, the negotiated justice and official justice, far from being mutually exclusive and the latter replacing the former without further ado, would intertwine in such a way that one could talk about an authentic osmosis between the two throughout the Ancien Régime, which led Mario Sbriccoli to conclude:

L’attitudine negoziale e l’idea della ritorsione verranno bandite dal campo penale soltanto con l’arrivo della codificazione, dopo la svolta epocale originata dalla Rivoluzione francese: ma anche l’assolutismo dei codici dovrà fare i conti con la lunga durata e adattare il suo passo a quello, ben più lento, della cultura dei popoli e delle persone.120

In fact, the parties in the judicial process used this on more than a few occasions to perfect a prior agreement, not to show the impossibility of reaching it, or as an instrument of pressure during a negotiation.121 These were strategies that not only displayed the initial preference of the social actors for the more traditional and less dramatic or theatrical forms of justice122 —and surely also less expensive—, but also equally the validity, as we have seen, of the ideological principal of subordination

116. Claudio Povolo wrote: Il complessivo discorso giuridico conosciuto come diritto comune, lungi dall’attestare l’affermazione di una giustizia espressione egemonica della state law, era funzionale al mantenimento di quel sistema giuridico comunitario, caratterizzato da un’innata vocazione compromissoria e dalla faida (“The global legal discourse known as diritto comune, far from witnessing the affirmation of justice that expressed the hegemony of state law, was funtional for the maintenance of that communal legal system characterised by an innate arbitration vocation and the feud”. “Dall’ordine della pace...”: No. 8). Meanwhile, Mario Sbriccoli spoke about “la logica anti-imperativistica del diritto comune” (“the anti-imperative logic of the ius commune”) in “Giustizia criminale...”: 170. 117. Throop, Susanna.A. Crusading as an Act of Vengeance, 1095-1216. Farnham: Ashgate, 2011. 118. Buc, Philippe. “Some Thoughts on the Christian Theology of Violence, Medieval and Modern, from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution”. Rivista di Storia del Cristianesimo, 5/1 (2008): 9-28. 119. Vengeance in Medieval Europe: A Reader, Daniel Lord Smail, Kelly Gibson, eds. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009; Hyams, Paul R. Rancor and Reconciliation in Medieval England. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003; Vengeance in the Middle Ages: Emotion, Religion and Feud, Susanna A. Throop, Paul R. Hyams, eds. Farnham: Ashgate, 2010; Nassiet, Michel. La violence, une histoire sociale: France XVIe-XVIIIe siècles. Seyssel: Champ Vallon, 2011: maxime chapters 4 (“Vengeance et faide”) and 9 (“La culture de vengeance dans les guerres de religion”); Carroll, Stuart. Martyrs and Murderers: The Guise Family and the Making of Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009; Miller, William Ian. Eye for an eye. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2006. 120. “The negotiating attitude and the idea of retaliation would be banished from the criminal field only with the arrival of codification, after the change of epoch provoked by the French Revolution, but also the absolutism of the codes must settle with the long-term and adapt to the much slower speed of the culture of the peoples and individuals”. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale...”: 172. 121. See the monographic issue on “Procedure di giustizia”, Renata Ago, Simona Cerutti, eds. Quaderni storici, 101 (1999) 107-473. 122. On the penal process as a “theatre of power”, Povolo, Claudio. “Dall’ordine della pace...”: 15-107.

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of the iustitia to the caritas, that is, of the clearly subsidiary character of law with respect to religion.123 The judges shared this presupposition and encouraged the parties to reach agreements when the process was inevitable, while they did not hesitate to combine a repressive and exemplifying conception of punishment with a consideration of this as anche luogo e occasione per il recupero della dimensione ’negoziale’ del giudizio, fondata sulla consuetudine, sull’equità, sulla misericordia.124 Moreover, the judicial sentences and decisions —which did not need to be motivated and did not cease to take the intuitus personae into consideration— were sometimes no more than an intermediate episode later exploited by the parties towards a negotiated end of the conflict, as has been lucidly shown recently for the numerous aristocratic clashes and wars that took place in the south of France during the 14th century.125 Just as instrumental and inconclusive were the frequent royal decrees during those wars, restricting or prohibiting them.126 The role of the royal officials became more like that of real arbitrators and mediators according to their status —and not necessarily their position— whose actions, however, contributed resolutely to resolving those conflicts while also serving to increase the presence of the central power within the local and regional powers, more through their involvement in these commitments than through coercion. Something similar could have been claimed about the stati regionali italiani di epoca moderna, che solo con molta difficoltà riuscivano a garantire il mantenimento di un ordine pubblico costantemente minacciato dalle dinamiche fazionarie, and in which gli stessi giusdicenti locali si vedevano istituzionalmente investiti di funzioni più di tipo politico-mediatorie che di amministrazione della giustizia stricto sensu.127 The path towards the assertion of a “public penal law” from its first stirrings in the 13th century was not short or easy, but rather a lunga e tormentata storia, again in the words of one of its most knowledgeable experts.128 The criminalisation of the feud and the consequent limitation of the right to and the concept of war was a chapter in this story, one that only concluded around 1600, not by chance coinciding with what historians consider the high point of the brigandage and banditry of the Ancien Régime, a phenomenon whose protagonists

123. See also Broggio, Paolo. “Linguaggio religioso e disciplinamento nobiliare: il “modo di ridurre a pace l’inimicitie private nella trattatistica di età barocca”, I linguaggi del potere nell’età barocca 1. Politica e religione, Francesca Cantù, ed. Rome: Viella, 2009: 275-317. 124. “also the place and occasion for recovering the ’negotiable’ dimension of the trial, based on custom, equity, misericordia”. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale...”: 171. See also Alessi, Giorgia. Il processo penale: profilo storico. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 2007: 97 and following. 125. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio: the settlement of seigneurial disputes in later medieval Languedoc”. French History, 26/4 (2012): 441-459. 126. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio...”: 447-449; Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seigneurial war and royal power...”: 51-60. 127. “the Italian stati regionali from the early modern epoch, that only with great difficulty managed to maintain a public order constantly threatened by the factionary dynamics”, “the self-same local judges found themselves institutionally invested with functions more of the political-mediating type than the administration of justice stricto sensu”. Broggio, Paolo. “Linguaggio religioso e disciplinamento nobiliare...”: 284. 128. “long and tempestuous history”, Sbriccoli, Mario. “Vidi communiter observari...”: 254.

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in many cases, as has been shown, seem to have been more hijos de la faida antes que de la miseria.129 Nor is it plausible to attribute to chance that it was precisely in the 17th century when historiography began to talk retrospectively and with reprobation of “private wars”.130 Until then, language was also a battlefield. There were no relevant differences in either form or substance between wars by the princes and those undertaken by other lords (except for the obvious growing asymmetry of forces that ones and the others could mobilise). However, it has been shown that while those near the former carefully avoided calling the conflicts involving the latter “wars”, the parties involved in these made open use of the word.131 It was another way of pushing reality along a path and in a precise direction, this time through resort to a selective use of language that not only aspired to describe the experience but also configure it in a specific sense. The resort that, as is known, Humpty Dumpty knew so well and Alice had the opportunity to test out. In the late Middle Ages and early modern period, rhetoric was all the more an important part of political action since the communis opinio forged by jurists (the principal source of civilis sapientia, and through which that political action must be legitimated) was not necessarily resolved, as we saw, by the existence of a single, indisputable view or decision. The same action could be conceptualised, for example, as rebellion or as resistance, understood as an offence deserving punishment or as the exercise of legitimate defence, addressed, in the end, as crimen laesae maiestatis or interpreted as a legitimate action by those habent iustam causam superioribus resistendi.132

129. “children of the feud rather than of misery”. Torres, Xavier. “Faide e banditismo nella Catalogna dei secoli XVI e XVII”, Banditismi mediterranei (secoli XVI-XVII), Francesco Manconi, ed. Rome: Carocci, 2003. See also Torres, Xavier. “Guerra privada y bandolerismo en la Cataluña del Barroco”. Historia social, 1 (1988): 5-18; Povolo, Claudio. “La conflittualità nobiliare in Italia nella seconda metà del Cinquecento. il caso della Repubblica di Venezia: alcune ipotesi e possibili interpretazioni”. Atti dell’Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Letter e ed Arti, 151 (1992-1993): 89-139; Povolo, Claudio. “Retoriche giudizarie, dimensioni del penale e prassi processuale nella Repubblica di Venezia: da Lorenzo Priori ai pratici settecenteschi”, L’amministrazione della giustizia penale nella Repubblica di Venezia (secoli XVI-XVIII), II: Retoriche, stereotipi, prassi, Claudio Povolo, Giovanni Chiodi, eds. Verona: Cierre Edizioni, 2004: 19-170. 130. Cange, Charles du Fresne du. “Des guerres privées et du droit de guerre par coutume”, Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis. Graz: Akademische Druck-u. Verlagsanstalt, 1954: X, 100-108 (first edition in 1678). The expressions bellum publicum and bellum privatum can be found in the medieval doctrinal sources, the first much earlier and the second markedly later, from the 14th century on, the latter surely introduced, after an isolated precedent in Summa by Thomas Aquinas, through the Romenising reflex of the jurists Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine...: 83, 114 and following, also indicating the nonexistence of a relevant semantic distinction between bellum and guerra. The sources of the practice use the expression guerra publica to define the 14th-century seigniorial wars in Languedoc, while the antonymic expression never appears in these. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seineurial war...”: 38 (note 4); Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio...”: 445. El Árbol de batallas, in the way of Giovanni da Legnano, in a passage contrasts guerra particular y general, see Árbol de batallas: versión castellana...: 125; L’arbre des batailles d’Honoré Bonet...: 229. 131. See Gamberini, Andrea. “Le parole della guerra nel ducato di Milano: un linguaggio cetuale”, Linguaggi politici nell’Italia del Rinascimento, Andrea Gamberini, Giuseppe Petralia, eds. Rome: Viella, 2007: 445-467. 132. The latter sentence is from the Disquisitio prior iuridica with which the Italian cities defended themselves from Henry VII in 1313. Benedictis, Angela de. Tumulti: moltitudini ribelli in età moderna.

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Some argue that military violence increased in the period between 1500 and 1700.133 We have already had occasion to point out that this is not nowadays a unanimous opinion. In the end, as Francesco Benigno wrote with rotundity and insight, “violence is not a thing, it is a judgment”.134 However, first the Italian Wars, then the European wars of religion had bathed Western Europe in blood throughout the 16th century. In a context modified by the looming Turkish threat and the unexpected expansion of the ecumene, together with the effect the development of the printing press must have had on the spread and interpretation of all this, the perception of war, in a century that also experienced nuovi e sanguinosi modi di guerreggiare, in Guicciardini’s words,135 must also have undergone significant changes. The discovery of the inner barbarism, within a broken Christendom, and the blurring of differences with the external barbarian and the new savage humanity were undoubtedly a novelty that has since then left its imprint in one sense or another on European history and the discourses about this.136 So too has the central role of war in reflections about how to organise the coexistence of Europeans137 —with enormous long-term political consequences. However, the feud was not replaced directlly by a State monopoly over war. This is not the conclusion that should be reached from the criminalisation of the former and the restriction of the concept of the latter once the ius ad bellum effectively became an exclusive prerogative of the prince and war then became primarily external, war between princes. As shown above, the sole possibility of internal resistance and of this leading to a resort to arms —not to mention tyrannicide— could be considered juridically as a licit option138 conditioned, if not belied, the fact that the identification

Bologna: Il Mulino, 2013: 107 and following. For the relation between discursive strategies and political action see also the rich example analysed by Bellabarba, Marco. “Ordine congiunto e ordine stratificato: note su diritto di faida e territorio nel tardo Medioevo”, Chiesa cattolica e mondo moderno: scritti in onore di Paolo Prodi, Adriano Prosperi, Pierangelo Schiera, Gabriella Zarri, eds. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2007: 387- 401, and more generally, Gamberini, Andrea. “The language of politics and the process of state-building: approaches and interpretations”, The Italian Renaissance State, Andrea Gamberini, Isabella Lazzarini eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012: 406-424. 133. Like Reinhardt, Wolfgang. Storia del potere politico in Europa. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2001: 421 and following. 134. Benigno, Francesco. Las palabras del tiempo...: 172. 135. In his Storia d’Italia, but I take the quote from Fournel, Jean-Louis; Zancarini, Jean-Claude. La grammaire de la république: langages de la politique chez Francesco Guicciardini (1483-1540). Genoa: Droz, 2009: 376. 136. Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “Nous, les barbares: expansion européenne et découverte de la fragilité intérieure”, Histoire du monde au XVe siècle. 2: Temps et devenirs du monde, Patrick Boucheron, dir. Paris: Fayard, 2012: 672-700; Scuccimarra, Luca. I confini del mondo: storia del cosmopolitismo dall’Antichità al Settecento. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2006: 189 and following. 137. Fournel, Jean-Louis. “Dire autrement la politique et la guerre européennes (XVIe-XVIIe siècles)”, Guerres, conflits, violence: l’état de la recherche, Paris: Autrement, 2010: 32-35; Barbier, Maurice. La modernité politique. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2000: 50-54. 138. Benedictis, Angela de. Politica, governo e istituzioni...: 297 and following; Benedictis, Angela de. “Abattere I tiranni, punire I rebelli: diritto e violenza negli interdetti del Rinascimento”. Rechtsgeschichte, 11 (2007): 76-93; Benedictis, Angela de. “Resisting Public Violence: Actions, Law and Emotions”, Finding Europe: Discourses on Margins, Communities, Images, Anthony Molho, Diogo Ramada Curto, eds. New York-

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of war with the prince was an authentic monopoly. Regarding external wars, while the Thirty Years War finally managed to ruin all dreams of universal monarchy,139 the new international order that arose from the fragile peace treaties of the 1640s and 50s does not seem to have brought with it a radical redefinition of the political subjects who were then acting on the European geopolitical stage, however much the “myth of Westphalia” is still recited nowadays as that of the birth of a first modern system of States.140 Far from it, it was just around these dates, however, when the twin ideas of a State as a political artifice and an individual as a “person”, the two inventions that would bring with them a drastic lurch towards political modernity, were only just beginning to be imagined or suspected, with war certainly present in the historical reality and as a logical trigger. But it would still take almost one and a half centuries, at least on the continent, for the Leviathan to come to life in a painful birth and, by expropriating the old “persons” who had all iurisdictio (all political power), leave them as mere private subjects. Did war create the State via taxation? For the period under consideration here, we should at least doubt it.141 It is not only that the thesis —“an essentially outside-in and above-below explanation”— exudes a large dose of the old Rankean postulate of the primacy of foreign policy and ignores the varied internal social and political dialectic present in each case, as has been argued from a perspective of “political Marxism” that keeps alive the once most appreciated and heeded debate about the transition from feudalism to capitalism.142 Nor is it either only a question of the haste that leads some to preach the excessively early consummation of this ménage à trois, as it has been wittily called;143 nor that the explicative contrivance made up of these three pieces having a certain air of a mechanism for the natural selection of states with markedly teleological bias, “sometimes of the dangerous teleology

Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2007: 273-290; Benedictis, Angela de. Tumulti...; Jouanna, Arlette. Le devoir de révolte: la noblesse française et la gestation de l’État moderne, 1559-1661. Paris: Fayard, 1989; Turchetti, Mario. Tyrannie et tyrannicide de l’Antiquité à nos jours. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2001. 139. See Rosbach, Franz. Monarchia universalis: storia di un concetto cardine della politica europea (secoli XVI- XVIII). Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 1998. 140. From different perspectives, Osiander, Andreas. “Sovereignty, International Relations, and the Westphalian Myth”. International Organization, 55 (2001): 251-287; Teschke, Benno. The Myth of 1648: Class, Geopolitics and the Making of Modern International Relations. London: Verso, 2003. 141. As one might also qualify an affirmative response for the contemporary epoch: “warfare is not more than a catalyst of state building but to ignite and sustain fire one needs solid and durable wood”, as Siniša Malešević wrote. He believed that that intervention was also essential in the processing of ideological factors that give social cohesion and political legitimacy. See Malešević, Siniša. “Did Wars Make Nation- States in the Balkans?: Nationalisms, Wars and States in the 19th and early 20th Century South East Europe”. Journal of Historical Sociology, 25/3 (2012): 299-330 the quote is on p. 324. 142. Techke, Benno. “Revisiting the ’War-Makes-States’ Thesis: War, Taxation and Social Property Relations in Early Modern Europe”, War, the State and International Law in Seventeenth-Century Europe, Olaf Asbach, Peter Schröder, eds. Farnham: Ashgate, 2010: 35-59, a quote between hyphens, on p. 42. 143. Carocci, Sandro; Simone M. Collavini. “The Cost of States: Politics and Exactions in the Christian West (Sixth to Fifteenth Centuries)”, Diverging Paths? The Shapes of Power and Institutions in Medieval Christendom and Islam, John Hudson, Ana Rodríguez, eds. Leiden & Boston: Brill, 2014: 125-158: 148; also Italian translation in Storica, 52 (2012): 7-48: 36.

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aimed at explaining what has made us superior”.144 These are the typical drawbacks of the history of great strides that historical sociology tends to fall into and that leads to mistaking causes for conditions of possibility. But rather than any of that, what is at stake regarding the difficulty of uncritically accepting that surprisingly successful and widespread tripartite formula is a conceptual problem:145 namely, that which underlies the usual (implicit or explicit) likening of prince and State,146 an assimilation whose usual outcome is to mistakenly take for granted, for example, what law or legislation must have been at the time, as we saw earlier, or for that matter, also taxation. But even with prerogatives which undoubtedly set him apart as a “mystical body”, acknowledged duties and functions, and the convention that he should have the adequate means to fulfil them, in that model of political organisation which has come to be termed jurisdictional (the fundamental model for the architecture of European kingdoms and republics of the 13th-18th centuries), the prince (whether an individual or a collective person) was not the State but a state (in the sense of status), since in order to become the former and cease to be the latter, it was imperative to change the nature of the legal order. Why would first the late medieval and then the early modern military competition need a transformation of its main participants in a State-building sense? It was a contingent result, one would say. Then, why organise the story from this result, privileging this point of view? Did England not become a military power in the 18th century, financed with a very heavy taxation policy that was the responsibility, not of the king, but rather Parliament, without that altering substantially a typically jurisdictional institutional system and government?147 The evolution of the kingdoms and republics on the continent was surely distinct and varied, and a more pressing and ongoing mutual military pressure must have contributed to this, one that this insular kingdom was freed from. But what decisively marked the difference was undoubtedly the disparate degree of corporative integration reached in each case, which obeyed each one’s particular formative history, conditioned the fiscal model and determined the level of territorial and political cohesion. If this forced a resort to informal or, in the literal sense, extraordinary, forms of government with the aim of streamlining the reaching of a target or increasing efficacy in the handling of a question, as was effectively frequently done in relation with military affairs, we know that such expedients found a habitual justification, although not always pacific, in the “economic” and “absolute” dimensions of the power of the

144. Carocci, Sandro; Simone M. Collavini. “Il costo degli stati: politica e prelievo...”: 7-48: 36. 145. “The broad consensus and widespread unanimity across the disciplines of history, historical sociology and International Relations on the significance of internal nexus between war —or, more broadly, geopolitical competition— taxation and early modern state-formation constitutes”, in Benno Teschke’s opinion, “an exceptional rarity in the field of human enquiry”. See “Revisiting the ’War-Makes-States’ Thesis...”: 35. 146. For the contrast between the two, Schaub, Jean Fréderic. “Sobre el concepto de Estado”. Historia Contemporánea, 28 (2004): 47-51. 147. As the role of jurisprudence of the ius commune corresponded there, as is known, to that of a differentiated common law. About what is said in the text, see Mannori, Luca; Sordi, Bernardo. Storia del diritto amministrativo...: 79 and after, and also for the following.

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prince. Thus, it was not something entirely unrelated to an institutional order of a jurisdictional nature. They neither could (for material and cultural reasons which there is no room here to develop) nor claimed to be exponents of a new state logic or rationality, and its use, even where it reached a greater intensity, as happened in France, although it permitted the development of a parallel bureaucracy, this was not presented as an alternative to the old magistratures, and was not configured, ultimately, according to la ’moderna’ contrapposizione tra chi giudica e chi amministra.148 There were formulas and mechanisms through which the main European political powers prior to the 19th century could maintain an effective and by no means negligible military force without this being accompanied by an unusual bureaucratic deployment, by a redoubled coercive capacity or any other of the assumptions that are usually brought up when the argument is focussed on a perspective of State- building. The resort to “military enterprises”, whose flourishing throughout the late medieval and early modern periods has recently been highlighted, was undoubtedly one of these formulas.149 And the same historiography that has not managed to rid itself of the State as a concept, as an institutional reality or as a tool for analysing the Ancien Régime, can only increasingly underline in recent decades its weakness, the enormous rift between its rhetoric and the reality of the power it was able to exercise, its dependence on negotiation and agreement with peripheral or local powers. What kind of Leviathan was this? Would it not be better now to accept that this is a mirage and declare its non-existence? If not, there is a real risk of becoming ensnared in its logic, or, in the best of cases, of it hindering the appreciation of another logic that had little or nothing to do with the State. After fighting against the “feudal revolution” around the year 1000, Dominique Barthélemy declared himself instead a rather convinced “mutationist” in the case of the 12th century, a century, he said, that divided medieval history into two epochs.150 The feud and informal justice would have dominated the forms of establishing order in the former period, which would have given way in the mentioned century to a savant law and the “genesis of the modern State”. Even the most seasoned historiography of the High Middle Ages ends up declaring evident, in terms of what followed, things it shouldn’t. A very recent and detailed reconstruction of the campaign carried out in the region of the Upper Rhine between July 1444 and March 1445 by the future Louis XI of France, at the head of a large army mainly made up of mercenaries, clearly shows, conversely, how the intricate network of the multiple powers with different reach that intertwined, overlapped and competed in the region, the autonomous strategy decided by each of these, the changing and

148. “the ’modern’ contradistinction between who judges and who administers”: Mannori, Luca; Sordi, Bernardo. Storia del diritto amministrativo...: 100-101. 149. Parrott, David. The Business of War: Military Enterprise and Military Revolution in Early Modern Europe. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012; War, Entrepreneurs, and the State in Europe and the Mediterranean, 1300-1800, Jeff Fynn-Paul, ed. Leiden & Boston: Brill, 2014. 150. Barthélemy, Dominique. “La vengeance, le jugement et le compromis”, Le règlement des conflits au Moyen Âge. Actes du XXXIe congrès de la SHMESP (Angers, 2000). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2001: 11-20: 13.

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crosslinked alliances or the important political role played in this context by the Council of Basel as the arbitration and mediation agency between the contenders, all made up a scenario that can hardly give adequate reason to “the language of nationhood and state-formation”.151 What the 12th century actually ushered in was a jurisdictional political culture that historians have tended to ignore by considering it as merely the prelude to the state political culture. A whole stage of European history is thereby lost. And it is a shame, because paying it due attention helps us to understand that the advent of the State was not something necessary and inevitable. It was an option, as was at the time, by constitution, a jurisdictional modernity.152 But that, as they say, is another story.

5. Conclusions

For people’s beliefs about a political system are not something outside of it, they are part of it. Those beliefs, however they are formed or determined, do determine the limits and possible development of the system; they determine what people will put up with, and what they will demand.153

Two brief, shall we say, methodological observations to finish with. The first is that, despite everything, the above approach remains quite far from the subject it contemplates. Accordingly, the resulting image has the characteristics of aerial photography. At first sight, the details may not be evident. And these are always important; as we know, God is in the detail. But it is only a way to offer an elementary cartography. Two factors work in favour of this being feasible without great distortions, despite the breadth of the territory covered: that this territory can be captured quite truthfully with one lens, which provides the ius commune, and that the differences in the details, however significant they are when seen from closer up, do not cancel out the similarities, the common forms that were expressions, as Watts stated, of “the consonances and shared patterns —the structures— of European political life”.154 The second observation is as follows. For a long time, if not always, history as a discipline has been obsessed with its scientific status, which, especially in the decades after the Second World War, led it to flirt openly with the so-called social sciences to the detriment of its traditional prolonged courtship with philology. There is no lack of voices among those who nowadays practice the best version (and the

151. Hardy, Duncan. “The 1444-5 expedition of the Dauphin Louis to the Upper Rhine in geopolitical perspective”. Journal of Medieval History, 38/3 (2012): 358-387. 152. Portillo, José María. “La constitución en el Atlántico hispano, 1808-1824”. Fundamentos: cuadernos monográficos de teoría del estado, derecho público e historia constitucional, 6 (2010): 123-178. 153. Macpherson, Crowford Brough. The Life and Times of Liberal Democracy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977: 6. 154. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 3.

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most modest, it must be said) of social science available who suggest, however, that it should perhaps rather be the social scientists who should take note of history, in other words, of the practice of the good historians.155 One could say —for we cannot go into details here either— that the difficulty that underlies one attitude or the other is the same: that of adapting the tools to the problems, a difficulty that first appeared in the early 19th century and whose most famous episode was the Methodenstreit towards the end of the same century.156 However, nowadays, we know how little founded a radical contrast between understanding and explanation was,157 two operations that can indeed work, and in fact do work, as distinct phases of a single process designed to explain a given social reality. If individual or collective beliefs are not alien to the explanation of actions, in the strong sense that they are liable to form part of their immediate causes, understanding the beliefs of people from the past, of their own perception of things, cannot be the private reserve of a separate history, of historiographic speciality. In those beliefs are also cast the institutions that regiment social life and are used by those who participate in it according to their interests and preferences. In his introduction to Democracy in America, de Tocqueville wrote that “a new science of politics is needed for a new world”158. The old civilis sapientia was of no use for understanding a new reality, in the same way that some of our most common political concepts are of little use for us, children of this new world, to understand that old one that no longer exists. They are pregnant with meaning;159 or require cumbersome redefinitions that end up being seen as less than fruitful.160 To tackle the political history that preceded the present time, and as war is the motive that has brought us here, it would be worth taking into account something similar to what John France recently stated about military history: “Looking at the past through technological glasses is a distortion [...]. The sophisticated analytic terms used by armies nowadays are very modern and applying them to distant events is misleading”.161

155. Elster, Jon. “One social science or many?”. 2010 World Social Science Report Knowledge Divides (2010). United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation-International Social Sciencia Council. 11 septiembre 2013. . 156. Ovejero, Félix. El compromiso del método: en el origen de la teoría social posmoderna. Barcelona: Montesinos, 2003: 39 and following. 157. Boudon, Raymond. Metodologia della ricerca sociológica. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1996: 19 and following. 158. Tocqueville, Alexis da. Democracy in America. New York: Vintage Books, 1945: 1, 7. 159. Hespanha, António Manuel. “Le débat autour de l’État moderne”. Adhésion et résistances à l’État en France et en Espagne, 1620-1660, Anne-Marie Cocula, ed. Bordeaux: Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux, 2001: 11-21; Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “La notion d’État moderne est-elle utile?”. Cahiers du monde russe, 46/1-2 (2005): 51-64. 160. Lyon, Jonathan R. “The Medieval German State in Recent Historiography”. German History, 28/1 (2010): 85-94. 161. France, John. Perilous Glory...: 13.

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HOLY WAR, CRUSADE AND RECONQUISTA IN RECENT ANGLO-AMERICAN HISTORIOGRAPHY ABOUT THE IBERIAN PENINSULA

Carlos Laliena Universidad de Zaragoza Spain

Date of receipt: 5th of September, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 16th of December, 2014

Abstract

In contemporary Western societies, who are going through a neo-romantic stage, the Crusades have led to an immense literature and a remarkable popularity. In the scientific field, this phenomenon has encouraged the debate on the ideological and cultural issues surrounding Crusade. Since that in the Iberian Peninsula had developed fights between Muslims and Christians before 1096, it is inevitable that historians have wondered about the influence of the reconquest in the origins of the crusading movement. In this paper, we critized the widespread view among Anglo-Saxon historians, according to which secular piety and spirituality were instrumental in the development of the First Crusade, and struggles carried out in the Iberian Peninsula did not influence in the extraordinary adhesion of the European nobles to this issue. In addition, other concepts that may help to explain the intensity of the response, such as “aristocratic networks,” and at the same time help to understand the weight of the Hispanic experience in this movement1.

Keywords

Crusade, (Re)conquest, First Crusade, Anglo-Saxon historiography, aristocratic networks, lay aristocratic cultures.

Capitalia Verba

Cruciata, (Re)Conquista, Prima Cruciata, Historiographia Anglo-Saxonum, Retes Aristocratiae, Cultural Aristocratiae laicae.

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1. Introduction1

Even before the economic crisis, the recent turn of the century was characterised by an exceptional tide of pessimism, shown by the success of fictional works describing planetary catastrophes or post-apocalyptic societies, where the return to an almost primordial violence recalls many images of the medieval universe in the media. In fact, fantasy literature, television series or cinematographic sagas are largely inspired in the Middle Ages to evoke huge dramas of legendary kingdoms and dynasties, in which classic monsters of medieval roots frequently appear to accentuate the evident inspiration in really medieval representations. In the context of global insecurity that surrounds us and that sustains a good part of the scatological mentality reflected in these fictions, the last quarter century has also been characterised by a new upsurge of the Middle Eastern conflicts, whose strange kinship with Western expeditions to the Holy Land starting with the first crusade has been pointed out by all involved.2 Inevitably, the shift in focus from, for example, peasant wars like the one in Vietnam to the oil wars, like the Gulf War or the conquest of , has led historians to redirect their attention (to continue with the example) from the anthropology of peasant societies to the ideology of the crusades. This is not exactly new, given that, as Christopher Tyerman writes in the introduction to his book about the reality and the myth of the crusades, the Western imagination is plagued with multiple references related to these aspects that constantly interweave from the 18th century.3 Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this situation is precisely the rebirth of a powerful historiography about the crusades in the context of an exacerbated presence of this historical phenomenon in such a peculiar global cultural arena as Internet. The revitalisation of the history of the crusades, especially the first and most successful one, responds to a real demand, both social and academic, for new commentaries, new explanations, sometimes simply an adaptation to the times, of the traditional presentations about Western expansion in the Mediterranean. Over the last fifteen years, historians have worked to fulfil this demand from the editorial and, to an extent, scientific, markets with notable results. In contrast with what habitually happens with history books, the works on the crusades are translated into many languages, constantly republished and spread very widely through the commercial circuits. In fact, they make up an authentic editorial niche market with multiple formats, from scholarly works to paperback editions. In this sense, the historiography and mythology of the crusades fits well into the powerful neoromantic current referred to above, that mixes very varied proportions

1. This work is part of the research lines of the CEMA Consolidated Research Group at the University of Zaragoza. Given the characteristics of the theme, the notes are strictly limited to documenting the claims made in the text. My thanks to the evaluators for their comments, which have improved the text. 2. Holsinger, Bruce. Neomedievalism, Neoconservatism and the War of Terror. Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press, 2007. 3. Tyerman, Christopher. Las Cruzadas. Realidad y mito. Barcelona: Crítica, 2005 (originally published as: Fighting for Christendom. Holy War and the Crusades. Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2004).

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of a sharp sense of social disintegration, nostalgia for fantasy nourished by epic swords and dragons, and an accentuated sense of otherness regarding these fantasy worlds, but also indirectly towards the past and the non-Western. In these years, the narrative of consumption and, of course, Internet have experienced a massive avalanche of this type of material, among which very conventional versions of the crusade always stand out. The most significant aspect of the rebirth of interest in the history of the crusades is undoubtedly the inclination towards the ideological contents of this vast movement. Most historians of the crusades reject a crudely ’materialist’ approach, according to which they were the result of the mobilisation of a mass of second-rate nobles, led by some kings and magnates, who aspired to improve their lot in Palestine at the expense of the Muslims. A formulation of this type, that enjoyed a certain earlier acceptance, has clearly lost validity and been replaced by explanations in which the diverse components of the ideology of the crusades are much more important. At this point, the debate becomes more for specialists and focuses around a fundamental concept, holy war, and another subsidiary one, just war, that have the interesting virtue of making the notion of crusade more vague and blunting some of its edges (all societies throughout history have justified war through religious arguments). This discussion also has chronological and spatial components that can be summed up in the question: when and where are these concepts applicable? These are not new problems, given that, in the 1980s, Carl Erdmann posed them with notable precision and, after him, historians have chosen from among the possible responses, often mimetically repeating previously expressed ideas. What is interesting in this orientation of the studies into the crusades and holy war is precisely the choice of the ideological field for the historiographical discussion. This slide is no exception in historical studies, where one can perceive nowadays a certain disparagement of social history and economic analysis in favour of the classic (’political’, biographic, military), neo-institutional and, especially, cultural history in a broad sense, a phenomenon that is particularly visible in this sector of medievalist historiography. Naturally, on scrutinising the complexity of the concept of crusade, historians have frequently posed questions about the existence of crusades beyond the Holy Land. In the same way, the origins and context in which the crusading movement arose at the end of the 11th century have been questioned. It is probable that there is a certain consensus regarding these questions around what has become known as a “pluralist” approach, more or less nuanced. This position states that defining a military expedition as a crusade requires a series of specific requisites that were met by a range of interventions in scenarios both Eastern and European, that affected heretics or enemies of the papacy (and not only Muslims), and took place over a very wide chronological range, that goes beyond the end of the 13th century when the Western presence in Palestine came to an end.4 In the same way, there is general agreement with Tyerman’s proposition, in which the crusade was the

4. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. ¿Qué fueron las Cruzadas?. Barcelona: Acantilado, 2012: 13-14 [original edition: What Were the Crusades?. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009 (4th ed.)].

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product of a society that converted war and violence into structural traits of its organisation, so that the distinctive feature of the crusade was its ’idealism’, the religious mobilisation. In this series of reasoning, there is no need to emphasise that the history of the Iberian Peninsula is of considerable importance. Centuries before Urban II’s preachings, the Iberian area was a theatre for clashes between Muslims and Christians the result of which result was a deep ideological conviction among the aristocratic elites of the Christian principalities that they were fighting the enemies of the faith, who they aimed to expel to return to a previous situation, that of the Goth and Christian Hispania. As this military action and the ideological discourse tend to coincide with those proposed by the popes at the end of the 11th century (in more general terms), it is inevitable that the historians of the crusades have revised the problems generated by the Reconquista and its links to the origins of the crusading movement.5 Over the last twenty years, various Anglo-Saxon historians, most from the J. Riley-Smith school, have reflected on this question and it is worth debating the validity of their conclusions and, in general, the conceptual framework they use.6 At the same time, it might be interesting to introduce other notions, little or never used by scholars, that emerge from the analysis of the local sources, and that also fall within cultural parameters, but somewhat distanced from the religious dimension that has dominated the arguments of the historians of this school.

2. Modern times

The definition of the crusade among medievalists includes the ideas of a holy and just war, with a penitential content for its participants who received spiritual indulgencies and material protection; a war that was destined to combat the enemies of the Christian faith whether these be Muslims in the East, pagans in Slavic Europe, heretics or, simply forces hostile to the papacy.7 In this definition, ’holy war’ implies an evident religious base, while ’just war’ supposes a call by the pope, management by legitimate authorities, a justified cause and, more subjectively, what Jonathan Riley-Smith calls ’a right intention’. The penitential aspect derives from the inherent difficulties of the journey and suffering experienced by the fighters but also from the close relation with the pilgrimage to Jerusalem that was

5. The Spanish historiography about the Reconquista is enormous and goes beyond the scope of this review. See García Fitz, Francisco. “La Reconquista: un estado de la cuestión””. Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 142-215 [https://www.durango-udala.net/portalDurango/RecursosWeb/DOCUMENTOS/1/2_1945_6. pdf]. After the drafting of this work, Francisco García Fitz and Feliciano Novoa Portela published Cruzados en la Reconquista, Madrid, 2014, that deals with some of the issues raised here, but does not analyse the perspective of the Anglo-Saxon historiography. In this sense, it is a complementary study to this one. 6. In consequence, this work does not aim to be a general historiographical summary and thus, the works by other historians outside this well-defined group are not cited or commented on. 7. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. ¿Qué fueron las Cruzadas?...: 23-32.

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an inseparable part of the campaigns and the crusaders’ participation in these. The spiritual benefits were progressively set, but the most significant appeared from the beginning in the papal predication, and the crusades far from the Eastern world had an equivalent protection, also from the start of the 12th century. All these aspects are reiterated in the abundant general bibliography about the crusades. However, among this set of ideas accepted by the scientific community, the discussion about the ideological factors that contributed to constructing the innovative notion of holy war in Palestine stands out. A century of careful analysis of the texts has led to an enormously developed comprehension of the process of forming the idea of crusade. Nowadays, the patristics, the works of the Carolingian epoch or the papal bulls, hide few secrets for the researchers, who have examined in minute detail the value of the words and concepts related with Christian holy war, the way in which the pacifism of the Christian doctrine accepted the possibility of deploying an acceptable violence, especially when the cause that triggered it was religious. If this almost institutional perception of holy war was the legacy of two generations of historians of the crusade from the 1930s on, the sign of the times has marked the historians of the beginning of the 21st century decisively with the insistence on idealism with religious roots, motivations related to the profound beliefs of the crusaders. It would be absurd to deny validity to ideological reasons for adhesion to the Jerusalemite expeditions (and especially the first), especially when during the last century and a half, we have contemplated extraordinary and very rapid mobilisations in this sense.8 However, it is significant that some medievalists, following J. Riley-Smith, emphasise the importance of spirituality in the decision to take the cross.9 Here Marcus Bull and William Purkis stand out among those we are interested in this commentary. Marcus Bull argues in detail that secular cultural values were secondary in the motivations of crusaders at the end of the 11th century. He states that a kind of ’Frank’ identity existed before the crusade, but that this grew extraordinarily during the expedition of 1096. The chivalrous ethos was equally important, but family honour and personal prestige, basic in the aristocratic world of the times, underwent a considerable shift towards the classic model of medieval chivalry thanks precisely to the crusade. In short, the substratum that facilitated the incorporation of armed combatants in the first crusade was the appeal to piety, or, more generally, the religious values lay people related to piety and the penitential experience. Bull indicates that some of the historians of the crusade have identified these religious values with the concepts developed by the clerical elite to make it possible to wage a holy war against the infidels and, in concrete, to liberate Jerusalem. In this sense, he dismisses God’s Peace and, as we shall see, the fight against the Muslims in the Iberian Peninsula as significant elements in forming the underlying ideological and religious basis of the first crusade. According to this author, the same occurs with

8. The outbreak of the American Civil War or the First World War generated waves of volunteers ready to fight to a great extent for strongideals , against slavery or out of patriotism, in these cases. 9. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. “Crusading as an Act of Love”. History, 65 (1980): 177-192.

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the epic literature in vernacular languages, posterior to, and very influenced by, the crusading phenomenon. In contrast to these general factors of persuasion, Bull believes that the enthusiasm for crusading was forged in local environments, in the connection between the communities of monks and canons, and the aristocratic families who exercised patronage over them and gave them some of their members. The close relation of these kinships with the monastic communities created the channels through which religious ideas circulated and which would later become decisive for transmitting the crusading message, with the pilgrimage as a form of fundamental devotion in this field.10 William Purkis purports to integrate the crusade into the context of reform of the Church, and, especially, within what is called the ’spirituality of the new monasticism’, that had two crucial aspects: the imitation of Christ and the apostolic life. His study deals with how ’these ideals’ were expressed in spirituality of the crusade throughout the 12th century. He believes that detachment from material goods, pilgrimage as the expression of this abandoning, and the symbolic adoption of the cross in the rituals of joining the crusade, were acts that developed the imitation of Christ. These were not the only ones: the journey to the Holy Land as such meant following God’s path in a literal sense, the via Christi in Jerusalem, while the sufferings of the crusaders was parallel to those of Christ and his disciples. In the same way, the unanimity and spirit of concord that ruled the behaviour of the crusaders (according to the chroniclers and the papal letters) showed their desire to be an apostolic community. Against the possibility that these ideals were a product of the ideology of the clergy more than the crusaders themselves, Purkis states that ’there is also no reason to think that the ideals of the imitation of Christ or the apostolic life were so abstract that they would have been alien to laymen in the first instance’.11

3. Distant horizons

Both authors pay considerable attention to the influence of the ChristianReconquista on the formation of these ideals of piety, pilgrimage and Christ-mimesis that, in their opinions, encouraged the forming of the crusades from the end of the 11th century. Their conclusion is negative: M. Bull thinks that from beginning of the first Frankish expeditions in Spain, Barbastro in 1064, these are enigmatic in conception, not very clear in their development and, finally, affected a minimum number of the Frankish aristocratic elites who would later be firmly linked to the crusade. The initiatives that led to these expeditions lay, according to Bull, in the matrimonial alliances of the peninsular leaders with the Dukes of Aquitaine, Burgundy and other lineages

10. Bull, Marcus Graham. Knightly Piety and the Lay Response to the First Crusade. The Limousin and Gascony, c. 970-c. 1130. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993: 1-20. 11. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality in the Holy Land and Iberia, c. 1095-c. 1187. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2008: 57.

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from the north of France. These dynastic links were the connections that led to their participation (when this did in fact happen, given that some of the campaigns, such as that one by Ebles of Roucy, organised in 1073, probably did not take place). From Bull’s viewpoint, these marriages were important for military cooperation, but ’it suggests that the extent of French military involvement in Spain before the First Crusade was placed within strict limits’.12 Consequently, the spread of the idea of crusade in the Iberian world came after Urban II’s predication and, over all, as a repercussion of the success in the Holy Land. The identification of the fight against the Muslims in the Peninsula with a crusading holy war was the result of the association made a posteriori as the 12th century went by and the papal letters systemised the doctrine and spread it to the Hispanic monarchs. Meanwhile, William Purkis states that the belief that the military activities in the Peninsula significantly influenced the consolidation of the idea of crusade is a ’position no longer tenable’,13 given that for the Frankish fighters in the second half of the 11th century, these expeditions did not have a religious or penitential nature and the most important, Barbastro, remains an isolated event. He aligns himself with authors like Angus MacKay and Richard Fletcher who assure that the war on the frontiers of al-Andalus was conditioned by political and material imperatives rather than ideological impulses. Moreover, he claims that the novelty of the call of Clermont means there are no clear precedents in the Western world and even fewer in the Peninsula. On the available evidence, he states, there is nothing to suggest the combination of a meritorious war and penitential pilgrimage in the Iberian area prior to 1095. Lastly, he makes it clear that the military activity of the Hispanic warriors was aimed at reaping material benefits, exactly what was prohibited in the mandates approved by the council. Only after the conquest of Jerusalem did the above-mentioned notions penetrate into the ideological atmosphere of the Hispanic nobles and knights, encouraging them to take part in the crusading movement, something repeatedly prohibited by the popes to avoid leaving the Christians frontiers undefended. The equation between the journey to the Holy Land and military activity against the Muslims in the Peninsula soon followed. This had its central point at the siege of Saragossa (1118), when the Christian forces received promises of spiritual remunerations similar to those granted to the Eastern crusaders. Purkis also discusses the importance of the proposals for a special route to Palestine from Spanish territory, which began to become relatively frequent in the 1120s.14 A third historian of the crusades who has recently dedicated a wide reflection to the links between the war on the Iberian frontiers of and the crusade is Christopher Tyerman. Like the above authors, he emphasises the contemporary

12. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 70-114, citation, p. 89. 13. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality...: 6. 14. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality...: 120-138. Purkis dedicates the final chapter of his book to examining the contents of the Liber Sancti Jacobi and the Historia Turpini of the Codex Calixtinus to certify the implantation of the contents of the crusade in the Hispanic area, as well as other indications from the campaign in the Balearics (113-1115), the conquest of Lisbon (1147) and the expedition against Almería (1147).

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connections that were appreciated between the struggle against Islam in the Near East and the Peninsula, but notes that, although the conflicts between the Christian kingdoms and their adversaries were on occasions tinged with shades of atonement and received papal support, their essence was the combination of ’expansion y colonisation’. These processes relied on the ’myth’ of the Reconquista, which had a strong dose of ’religious language’, distilled over the centuries and especially during the 11th. However, this ideological flow did not clash at all with a material motivation: the tributes of the taifa states were decisive for the consolidation of the Christian kingdoms and contributed to installing the idea of holy war in the Iberian world and which were of growing importance on the European scale. From this perspective, in line with M. Bull, the influence in this field flowedfrom Europe to the feudal peninsular principalities and not the other way round: ’the stimulus to the application of holy war was probably a foreign import’. Tyerman is more cautious than M. Bull and assumes that in Barbastro and other campaigns by the Franks, the popes were watching closely for the possibilities these granted to expand Christianity. He finds the key to the revitalization of the holy war in Spain in the appearance of the Almoravids and the development of the papal policy of encouraging the war of atonement that led to the first crusade. After the Council of Clermont and the conquest of Jerusalem, the notion of crusade decisively impregnated the armed struggle against the Muslims in the Hispanic lands, which was soon cloaked in all the formal apparatus of the crusade. However, the crusade was a broad cloth to cover the later evolution of the wars between Christians and Muslims, a resource handled in a gradual and incomplete way, but that did not impede peaceful interaction between them. Ultimately, the use of the legal, ideological and material aspects of the crusade was subordinated to the necessities and demands of politics in the peninsular states.15 Angus MacKay and Richard Fletcher have been mentioned, but we must add Derek Lomax, Peter Linehan and more recently, Joseph O’Callaghan and Simon Barton, among the Hispanists whose interpretation of the period of an unstable balance between the feudal principalities and the taifa states, has become a touchstone in Anglo-Saxon historiography.16 In contrast with the above (J. Riley-Smith, M. Bull, W. Purkis, C. Tyerman, and, before them, H. E. J. Cowdrey), the problem that concerned them was not the formation of the idea of the crusade, but rather, with various nuances, Christian expansion in the Peninsula. The question that concerns

15. Tyerman, Christopher. Las guerras de Dios. Una nueva historia de las Cruzadas. Barcelona: Crítica, 2007: 832-866 (original edition: God’s Wars. A New History of the Crusades. Cambridge (Mass.): Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007). 16. MacKay, Angus. La España de la Edad Media, Desde la frontera hasta el Imperio (1000-1500). Madrid: Cátedra, 1985 [original edition: : from Frontier to Empire, 1000-1500. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1977]; Fletcher, Richard. “Reconquest and Crusade in Spain, c. 1050-1150”, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 5th ser. 37 (1987): 31-48; Lomax, Derek. La Reconquista. Barcelona: Crítica, 1984 [original edition: The Reconquest of Spain. London-New York: Longman, 1978]; Linehan, Peter. Historia e historiadores de la España medieval. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 2012 [original edition: History and Historians of Medieval Spain. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993]. The works of Joseph F. O’Callaghan and Simon Barton are cited in the following notes.

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them, like many Spanish historians, is the process of conquest of al-Andalus and the creation of a dense ideological web destined to justify this, give it meaning and place it into a long historical continuity. This is what is habitually called Reconquista, a concept that, as is well known, has generated very wide-ranging debates about its usefulness and explanatory power. These historians are very aware of the historiographical complexity of this notion. Perhaps the person who has developed a fullest analysis is Joseph O’Callaghan, who echoes the appearance of the neo- Gothic ideology in ecclesiastic circles in the Astur-Leonese kingdom, centred round the belief in the ’loss of Spain, its ’inevitable’ recovery and continuity between the Astur-Leonese kingdom (or its successors) and the Visigoth Hispania. He states that ’the Christian struggle against Islamic Spain can be described as a war of both territorial aggrandizement and of religious confrontation’.17 This duality depends on the fact that Islam and medieval Christianity were incompatible civilisations, so that those who conserved the opposite faith within each of these civilisations were minorities, accepted, but not integrated. Inevitably, the confrontation took on religious tones and thus, the aspect of a holy war. In this approach, Joseph O’Callaghan takes a pragmatic posture to the Reconquista, indicating that this term can be used to define a prolonged process, whose real origins must be sought at the end of the 11th century and start of the 12th, when the Christians were first in conditions to defeat the Muslims. He remarks, with a touch of humour, that the reconquest of Hispania was not the work of the heirs to the Goths in the 9th century but rather of the Christians during the 11th-12th centuries, something very different. While the Reconquista was a process for O’Callaghan, the crusade was a specific event: the Iberian kings and princes used this ideological weapon from the papal arsenal to split the first crusade into multiple instances to give greater force to their military expeditions. Being given the legal privileges of the crusade reinforced their military campaigns. Thus (and this is the first conclusion), the development of the idea of crusade influenced the process of theReconquista , and not the other way round. In second place, the inseparable mixture of territorial expansion (in some moments, not even this, simply the gathering of tributes from the Muslim taifa states) and the religious content that this war of conquest was furnished with, enables the purely Hispanic aspect to be distinguished clearly from the European holy war, as it expanded from the times of Gregory VII. In general, these two propositions form a decisive part of the range of arguments used by the Anglo-Saxon researchers of the crusade: the war against the Muslims in the Peninsula, although furnished with an evident religious content, did not intervene in the dramatic eruption of the crusade that followed the call at Clermont and, on the contrary, the conquest of Jerusalem significantly changed the perspective of the war in Spain. Moreover, the struggle against the Muslims had an evident aspect of territorial expansion and material enrichment of the warrior elites that it contrasts drastically with the break inherent in the crusade, an authentic armed

17. O’Callaghan, Joseph F. Reconquest and Crusade in Medieval Spain. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003: 7.

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pilgrimage at the end of the 11th century and an unclear mixture of both throughout the following century.18 With greater or lesser emphasis, the Hispanists who have worked on this period in the Iberian world over the last few years, from Richard Fletcher to Simon Barton among others, have adopted this general perspective.19

4. Persistent errors

The tight defence of the Anglo-Saxon historiography derived from Jonathan Riley- Smith’s seminal work on the origin of the crusade based on the religious idealism of the European aristocratic elites furthered by the reformist popes, has a fundamental problem: it does not answer the question of why this phenomenon appeared at the end of the 11th century and not some other moment. The good question is not only how the spirit of the crusade was created but also when. The implicit response is to attribute it to Urban II, whose call was decisive in this sense, but, without being erroneous, this claim is not at all satisfactory.20 There are indications in this sense. Marcus Bull suggests that the propensity to participate in the crusade was a consequence of a long tradition of secular piety based on close relations between aristocratic families and local religious institutions, whom the papal predication influenced.21 Meanwhile, Jonathan Riley-Smith develops a fundamental idea: ’many early crusaders are clustered into certain kindred groups. The most likely reason for this seems to be that some families were willing to respond favourably in various ways to the call to take the cross’.22 Thus, the connections between religious institutions and family traditions would explain the favourable reception of the message from Urban II during the solemn journey of 1095-1096. These are powerful arguments that undoubtedly should appear among those that explain the growing involvement of a wide swathe of European nobles in the Holy War during the second half of the 11th century. However, they are not enough, given that the aristocratic kinship links with the monasteries and canonical communities date back before the year 1000, and moreover, a host of these show no special relation with

18. Tyerman, Christopher. The Invention of the Crusades. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998: 8-30. 19. Fletcher, Richard. “Reconquest and Crusade in Spain”...: 31-48; Barton, Simon. “From Tyrants to Soldiers of Christ: the nobility of twelfth-century León-Castile and the struggle against Islam”. Nottingham Medieval Studies, 44 (2000): 28-48. This author, in Barton, Simon. “El Cid, Cluny and the Medieval Spain Reconquista”. English Historical Review, 126/520 (2011): 517-543, offers a specific example of the workings of these propositions: El Cid, an antiheroe who aspires to triumph in very competitive noble circles by conquering Valencia, through the bishop used an ideological programme with a Cluniac base generically connected to the holy war against Islam. 20. “The quasi-regal grandeur, penitential atmosphere, and sheer novelty value of the pope’s passage through south-western France helped to generate enthusiasm for the crusade”: Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 258. 21. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 250-281. 22. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. The First Crusaders, 1095-1131. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1997: 21.

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the pilgrimage or the crusade in the East. And Riley-Smith’s proposal is projected towards the future (the expeditions after the victory in the Holy Land), more than to the reasons for the appearance of this phenomenon. In my opinion, it is necessary to systemise these ideas from a fundamental concept, that of aristocratic networks, that seems particularly effective for explaining the combination of personal decisions and family options regarding the crusade to the Holy Land, but also under other scenarios of war, like the frontiers of al-Andalus and Sicily. The notion of social network is intuitive enough not to need a very precise definition, at least for our purposes. The contacts with the monasteries or the family frameworks evoked above are good examples of this network structure, one that enabled the dominant class to become closely united through links of kinship, affinity and alliance, vassalage and spiritual patronage with ecclesiastic patrons. Naturally, the use of this metaphor, that leads us towards social relations and group strategies more than individual religious idealism, is not strictly a novelty. However, I would like to emphasise that these networks became denser during the 11th century and, above all, they became structured spatially. Although all the historians cited from the Anglo-Saxon school are aware that there were groupings of knights around some great princes and magnates, with a strong regional component, they tend to underestimate the importance of this factor, considering it obvious. Marcus Bull examines regional loyalties, but emphasises above all the local perspective. The nobles of Limousin and Gascony, “whose mental map was most likely very localized (apart from possible experiences of some distant places through pilgrimage)”,23 necessarily had very narrow family and religious connections, with a horizon that was limited to the nearest communities of monks and canons. This focus depends greatly on the use of documents from the archives of the religious institutions, and these tend to concentrate on patrimonial problems and alliances with nearby noble families. If we accept this vision of 11th-century Europe through the eyes of the monks, the West appears like an archipelago of regional areas barely connected to each other. In fact, the crusade would become one of the elements of European interconnection from 1096. This perspective is far from false and underlies many studies of regional history from the last half century. However, perhaps the moment has come to think that the noble networks were ranked socially and spatially, up to the level of the territorial princes and, through proximity to these privileged circles, their members participated in experiences on a European dimension. The information available about these relations and experiences is rather poor, but, when available, it shows a very wide- scale activation of these networks. The 1064 Barbastro campaign is a good example of how various aristocratic European networks (from Poitou, Champagne, Normandy and even Italy) suddenly came to the fore in Spain to participate in the attack on a city in al-Andalus and to devastate the Muslim-ruled Ebro Valley.24 Fifty or sixty years

23. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety... : 14. 24. Sénac, Philippe. “Un château en Espagne. Note sur la prise de Barbastro (1064)”, Liber largitorius. Études d’histoire médiévale offertes à Pierre Toubert par ses élèves, ed. Dominique Barthélemy, Jean-Marie Martin. Paris: Droz, 2003: 545-562 and Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal en el noreste

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later, these networks remained operative, given that they framed the participation of the Anglo-Norman nobles and those from Champagne and, to a lesser extent, Aquitaine in the conquest of the Ebro Valley. Although much research is still needed in this terrain, the considerable complexity of these noble associations can be seen through the intervention of Norman lords and vassals in Aragon during the 1123- 1134 period.25 Without going into details which I have addressed in another work, it seems essential to note the importance of Rotrou of Perche and his connections to the great Anglo-Norman magnates from the end of the 11th century and beginning of the 12th final, namely Nigel d’Aubigny, Gilbert de L’Aigle and the monastery de Saint- Évroul, that explain the presence in Aragon and Navarre of a long series of knights from an area that stretched from Northampton and York in England to Turenne, in the French Limousin. It is well known that Rotrou was a cousin of Alfonso I, on their mothers’ side and they were both nephews of Ebles of Roucy, who Gregory VII entrusted to head a military expedition to Spain in 1073. Normally, it is understood that Rotrou, a distinguished participant in the first crusade, answered a call from Alfonso el Batallador responding to their family ties at the start of the 12th century. However, I believe that these maternal links were less important for Rotrou than the profound impact the crusade had left on him and that pushed him to continue fighting against Islam. At the same time, I think his decision to take the cross in 1096 was partly determined by a family tradition that dated back to the Barbastro campaign and recalled his duty to fight against the Muslims.26 Rotrou’s distinguished career also enables attention to drawn to the circulation of information over these European-wide networks. For half a century, this great noble from the Norman frontier moved between the royal courts of England, France, Aragon and Navarre, and also those of the Dukes of Anjou and Blois, without the enormous geographic scope of these contacts seeming to have caused him any apparent difficulties, except if we accept the accusation of disloyalty to Alfonso I or his nobles that Orderic Vital made in connection with a first journey that must be dated from the beginning of this monarch’s reign (ca. 1108).27 From this point of view, Marcus Bull’s idea that the perspective of Western nobles at the end of the 11th century nobles was limited to the regions where they lived is reductionist. de la Península a mediados del siglo XI: Barbastro, 1064”, Cristianos y musulmanes en la Península Ibérica: la guerra, la frontera y la convivencia. XI Congreso de Estudios Medievales. León, del 23 al 26 de octubre de 2007. Avila: Fundación Sánchez Albornoz, 2009: 187-218, with the previous bibliography. 25. Laliena, Carlos. “Larga stipendia et optima praedia: les nobles francos en Aragon au service d’Alphonse le Batailleur”. Annales du Midi, 112/230 (2000): 149-170 and especially 157-164. 26. For Rotrou of Perche’s long career, including his activity in Aragon and Navarre, Thompson, Kathleen. Power and Border Lordship in Medieval France: The Country of Perche, 1000-1226. Woodbridge-New York: The Boudell Press, 2002: 54-85. K. Thompson indicates (and it is important) that Rotrou went to Jerusalem with Robert Courtheuse, Duke of Normandy, which supposes that loyalty also weighed on the decision to take part in the crusade. See also Thompson, Kathleen. “Family Tradition and the Crusading Impulse: The Rotrou Counts of Perche”. Medieval Prosopography, 19 (1998): 1-33. 27. Chibnall, Marjorie, ed. The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978: VI, 394- 397. Rotrou’s stay in Aragon-Navarre in this period is not documented in the local sources; Thompson, Kathleen. Power and Border...: 60, accepts the data offered by Orderic Vital: Lema, José Ángel. Alfonso I el Batallador, rey de Aragón y Pamplona (1104-1134). Gijon: trea, 2008: 73-75, accepts it with reservations.

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Conversely, it is preferable to think that the glorious traditions of armed expeditions in the distant lands of Spain were handed down within family lineages and, thanks to these networks of kinship, alliance and vassalage, were transmitted to large sectors of the aristocracy from the north of Europe, from Burgundy to England. On the other hand, there were channels of information that have been excessively underestimated in this context. The relations between Arnau Mir de Tost, lord of Ager, in the Catalan County of Urgell, with Pope Alexander II and the monastery in Cluny in the 1060s, illustrate perfectly the existence of these two channels (the papacy and Cluny) that had a European resonance.28 Arnau was one of the leaders of the war against the Muslims, who he fought tirelessly for thirty years, a shining example for his contemporaries, in line with the titles the Pope granted him in his bulls (nobilissimum et religiosissimum uirum, inimicorum Dei agarenorum aduersarium et debellatorem).29 Thus, the argument of the Anglo-Saxon historians of the crusade, according to which the enormous intensification of the war against Islam that began in the mid 11th century in the Iberian Peninsula was not important in the ideological amalgam of the nobles who joined the crusade in 1096, is based on two erroneous suppositions: that the aristocratic networks of the north of Europe did not reach as far as Spain (with the exception of the marriages of the Hispanic kings); and that knowledge of what was happening on the Mediterranean frontiers of Christianity did not spread to the rest of the European aristocratic universe. 30 The corollary of these suppositions is that the family tradition that described the exploits of their ancestors or relatives and friends of these forebears in the military expeditions that started with the one to Barbastro, the enormous generosity of the Hispanic kings and the halo of sacredness given off by the continuous fighting on the frontiers in the valleys of the Ebro and the Tagus did not weigh on the willingness of northern European nobles to join the crusade. And this is probably an erroneous conclusion. The insistence on the pilgrimage (and the importance of Jerusalem) and the almost monastic forms of secular piety completely mask the enormous power of the secular memory of the lineages, hidden by the almost exclusively ecclesiastic nature of our sources. Dedicated to the narrative and ecclesiastic sources, it is no surprise that the above-mentioned authors paid little attention to the chansons de geste, the vernacular epics, with the excuse that the versions we have date from after the first crusade and are heavily influenced by the crusading environment of the mid 12th century. However, it is evident that the epic legends were circulating before the crusades and linked what we could call the ’subject of Spain’ with references to Charlemagne and the heroes of the Carolingian past. Suffice to recall that, around 1070-1080, a Riojan monk took the necessary data from these oral traditions to add a brief summary of the battle of Roncesvalles and the death of the fathers of

28. Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal...”: with the documentary references. 29. Chesé, Ramón. Col·lecció diplomàtica de Sant Pere d’Àger fins 1198. Barcelona: Fundació Noguera, 2011: 266-288 (No. 44) [15 April 1060], bull by Nicolas II. 30. A similar reasoning could be applied to the conquest of Sicily (1060-1091), absent from the approaches to the crusade, despite the Sicilian Normans intervening actively in the former.

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France to a historiographic work, the Chronica Albendensia, in order to fill it out with prestigious details.31 And, according to Francisco Bautista, in the same epoch, a legend began to spread about Bernardo, the Ribagorzan who freed of the lands of the county of the same name from the Muslims and vassal of the emperor, a legendary tale that probably formed the basis for a chanson de geste about Bernardo de Carpio at a later date.32 Thus, some decades before the preaching of the crusade, epic narratives that evoked the memory of Charlemagne and his vassals circulated from Normandy to La Rioja and contributed to intensifying the values of a chivalrous ethos that considered the fight against the Muslims highly meritorious. It would not be fair not to indicate at this point that some works related to the school of Jonathan Riley-Smith are orientated towards showing the power of these traditions of lineage. This is the case of Nicholas Paul, who has also paid attention to displays in this sense in Catalonia during the second half of the 12th century.33 It seems to me that this is the right way to go to move beyond a certain historiographical impasse dominated by excessive attention to religious idealism as the central element of the mobilisation of the European aristocracy in the crusading movement. It is not a question of denying the importance of religious inspiration in the emotional atmosphere that surrounded the adhesion to the cross, but rather of valuing the most opaque side of our information, the duties inherent in belonging to lineages inside complex political networks and with broad strategies, as well as the incorporation of cultural patrons based on a warrior culture, in which honour was a vital element in the social reproduction of the elite. From this perspective, the involvement of some sectors of the aristocratic groups of the European nobility in the violent confrontation of the Christian principalities with the taifa kingdoms of al-Andalus is deeper than the Anglo-Saxon historiography admits. In second place, the local documentation, especially from the frontier Marches of Aragon and Catalonia, shows that from the 1040s the fight against the Muslims was not simply a question of territorial expansion and obtaining tributes, but that right across the social spectrum, but especially among the nobles, it was deeply impregnated with the conviction that their fight was sacred and brought spiritual benefits. What is perhaps even more important is that this local documentation shows the existence of ways of communication that informed important circles at a European level about what was happening on these frontiers of Christianity. Omitting these aspects, as Anglo-Saxon historians of the crusade do supposes mutilating a decisive component in the formation of the crusading movement in the second half of the 11th century.

31. The “Nota emilianense” has generated a large bibliography; I will only cite a recent work that recompiles and comments on it: Bautista, Francisco. “Memoria de Carlomagno. Sobre la difusión temprana de la materia carolingia en España (siglos XI-XII)”. Revista de poética medieval, 25 (2011): 47-109 and especially 58-60. 32. Bautista, Francisco. “Memoria de Carlomagno...”: 60-69, with an exhaustive bibliography. 33. Paul, Nicholas L. To Follow in Their Footsteps. The Crusades and Family Memory in the High Middle Ages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2012; Paul, Nicholas L. “Crusade, memory and regional politics in twelfth-century Amboise”. Journal of Medieval History, 31 (2005): 127-141.

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THE WAR IN LEON AND CASTILE (CA. 1110-1130). INTERNAL CRISIS AND IMAGINARY OF VIOLENCE

Pascual Martínez Sopena Universidad de Valladolid Spain

Date of receipt: 29th of October, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 10th of September, 2014

Abstract

This article deals with an aspect of the deep social crisis occurred in Leon and Castile during the time of Queen Urraca (regnante 1109-1126), the heir of Alfonso VI (regnante 1066/1072-1109). It was a period of war, which even continued after the death of the queen, during the first years of the reign of her son and heir, Alfonso VII (regnante, 1126-1157). The paper does not aim to describe the course of a war in the 12th century. It asks, however, questions about the dynamics of the war. To do so, we look at its material, social and symbolic items throughout a series of pictures from various sources.1

Keywords

Castile and Leon, Social History, 12th Century, War, way of Saint James.

Capitalia Verba

Castella et Legio, Historia Socialis, Saeculum XII, Bellum, Iter Sancti Iacobi.

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Alfonso VI died in 1109. He had ruled León and Castile for almost forty years. During the first stage of his rule, his kingdoms spread over the valleys of the great rivers of the Iberian Peninsula: the Ebro Valley, with the incorporation of La Rioja (1076), that had been part of the kingdom of Pamplona [Navarre]; the Douro Valley, by dominating the area south of the river (the Extremaduras) in the 1080s; and the Tagus Valley, with the conquest of the city of Toledo, the key to al-Andalus (1085). However, only one year later, in autumn 1086, the Almoravids came to the aid of the Muslims of Spain, defeating Alfonso VI’s army in the battle of Zalaca. The Almoravids held a certain rigorist view of Islam and their social base was Berbers from the Sahel; they had founded Marrakech and dominated the northwest of Africa. Their victory marked the start of a new stage, this being the first of a series of defeats for the Christians that culminated in 1108. That year, Prince Sancho, the king’s son and heir, died in the district of Uclés, on the Tagus, together with various counts and their retinues. Shortly after, al-Andalus was incorporated into the Almoravid Empire. Despite this, the balance of the period was not disastrous for the Christians. The Castilian-Leonese society faced the challenges —like other parts of the northern Peninsula. Internal growth was maintained and there were profound institutional changes. Notable among these was ecclesiastical reform. This began during the pontificate of Gregory VII and with the support of Alfonso VI, and it introduced an arsenal of rites, norms and standards for living that changed the Church in the kingdom in the latter decades of the 11th century. These are also associated with the enrichment of monasteries and . Simultaneously, the notion of “nobility” was defined in a similar sense to the one that was taking root all over the West. However, the traditional practices of dividing the inheritance between all the sons persisted. This suggests a nobility made up of large cognate kinships, and helps to explain the central role of the monarchy as a distributor of benefits. On the other hand, between 1088 and 1110, the leading cities and towns of the Douro valley and the Extremaduras —Zamora and Toro, Segovia, Medina del Campo and Ávila, Salamanca and Alba de Tormes were consolidated. Their success was due to their role as a defensive shield for the kingdom against the Almoravid menace. However, in the cities in the rearguard, like León, Oviedo or Burgos, something similar is seen. The rise of the Way of Saint James represents one of the most active aspects of the growth that is seen during Alfonso VI’s reign. One must think that the monarchy, with the collaboration of nobles, abbots and bishops, promoted the traditional urban centres and favoured the birth of new ones. Together, these elements explain the accumulation of internal tensions that burst out after the king’s death, in a political crisis that has also been interpreted as a crisis of growth. Alfonso VI was succeeded by his daughter Urraca. The new queen was a widow. Her late-husband, Raimundo, was a nephew of Abbot Hugo of Cluny and had

1. This work is part of the Research Project “Poderes, espacios y escrituras en los reinos hispánicos occidentales (siglos XI-XIV)” (HAR2013-42925-P), financed by the ’Ministry of Economy and competitiveness of the Government of Spain.

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arrived in Spain in the 1080s. Second son of the Dukedom of Burgundy, he reached the highest honours in the Leonese court. He was made Count of Galicia and also put in charge of settling the main cities of the Extremaduras. Effectively supported by his cousin Henry of Portugal —the husband of another of Alfonso VI’s daughters, Infanta Teresa—, he had risen to be the arbiter of policy in the kingdom, but had died in 1107. The Queen has been particularly badly treated by posterity. In contrast, her most recent biographers have emphasised that “no es nada difícil encontrar decisiones enérgicas, en la experiencia vital o en la acción política de esta mujer”.2 It should be borne in mind that her son Alfonso Raimúndez, tutored by the bishop of Compostela Diego Gelmírez and Count Pedro Froilaz, lived in Galicia, among old collaborators of her father who mistrusted her. Count Henry and his wife also organised their own party in Portugal. With the backing of a sector of the nobility, Urraca remarried, this time to Alfonso el Batallador, king of Aragon and Pamplona. However, the marriage became a new problem: new factions formed around each spouse. Many members of the nobility, bishops and abbots from León and Castile remained loyal to the Queen. On the other hand, el Batallador had a great deal of support in the cities and towns. The crisis was already brewing in 1110 and continued after Urraca’s death in 1126, during the first years of her successor, the above-mentioned Alfonso [VII] Raimúndez.3 Only after Alfonso el Batallador’s troop abandoned Castrogeriz, their last base in the heart of Castile (1131), did this come to an end. This study focuses on these twenty years. It is a coherent period for approaching various aspects of a profound social crisis that manifested itself through permanent conflict. The leading scenarios were the lands in the great northwest of Spain, structured around the Way of Saint James in that epoch. However, it is well known that there were other war zones in these times. Foremost among these, the “hot frontier” with al-Andalus poses a distinct problem. There, Muslims and Christians waged a much longer war: it had broken out in the 1080s and its early phases lasted until the start of the 13th century. Nor did participants on the two sides coincide —Almoravids then Almohads on one side, pardos (brown) knights of the frontier concejos or councils on the other. The purpose of this contribution is not to describe the actions in a 12th-century war. Instead, what has been researched is the dynamic of the war, highlighting its

2. “It is not at all difficult to find energetic decisions, in the experience or the political action of this woman,” The oldest chronicles were written by men of the Church and include well-known stereotypes about the female condition. See particularly Falque, Emma, ed. Historia Compostellana. Turnhout: Brepols, 1988. About the queen’s personality, Reilly, Bernard F. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under Queen Urraca (1109-1126). Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982; Pallares, Maria del Carmen; Portela, Ermelindo. La reina Urraca. San Sebastian: Nerea, 2006 (the quote is from the latter book, page 187). 3. In 1126, shortly after rising to the throne, Alfonso VII went to the monastery of Sahagún to seek pardon for the harm he and his supporters had caused there during the previous seventeen years of “crude war”; the diploma in which he manifested his contrition was placed on the altar of Saints Facundo and Primitivo, the monastery’s patrons, according to a ritual of the Cluniac tradition. Fernández, José Antonio, ed. Colección Diplomática del monasterio de Sahagún (857-1230). IV (1110-1199). Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigación ‘San Isidoro’, 1991: IV, 103-106 (doc. No. 1226).

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material, social and symbolic components through a series of aspects from a range of sources. In the first, the measures adopted to finance the campaigns are examined, centred round the trail left by the requisitions by Queen Urraca and her agents in the surviving documents from the royal chancellery. The second emphasises the dimensions of a struggle that involved society as a whole, with attention to the variety and eventual exchange of roles among the participants. A range of narrative sources is the main base for this section. The third starts from a collateral episode (the marriage negotiations of the young King Alfonso VII reflected in the outline of the official history), to reflect on how the troops who joined the host and the propitiatory acts marked out the march of an army towards the enemy. The fourth and last section focuses on explaining a revolt of a local nature. Apart from a brief archaeological notice, it indicates how the description of the fate of the losers suggests habitual practices.

1. Seeking resources for the war

The Historia Compostelana tells that doña Urraca donated the realengo and infantazgo situated between the rivers Tambre and Ulla to Santiago , as well as property in Santiago itself and some villages. This took place around 1112. This fortunate event strengthened the lordship that the apostolic see exercised over the territory. At the same time, it reinforced the loyalty of the bishop and chapter to the sovereign. However, another circumstance is visible. The Queen lacked the resources required to face a new campaign against Alfonso el Batallador, as she had already spent almost all the treasure accumulated by her father in the previous ones. The bishop and canons decided that they “no debía negarse a la reina el [nuevo] auxilio ni el consejo que había solicitado a la iglesia [de Compostela]”. “Así pues, ordenaron por propia iniciativa que se dieran a la reina... cien onzas de oro y doscientas marcas de plata del tesoro de Santiago, para luchar contra el peor devastador de España y poner en fuga al perturbador de todo el reino”.4 The Queen had approached the to request the protection of the Apostle against the misfortunes that afflicted the country. She asked for the prayers of the priests, showing herself generous. The canons acted knowing her plan to restart the war and her penury; moreover their own duties of auxilium and consilium obliged them to the Queen. There remains doubt about whether the events took place as they were recorded, combining the awareness of the sacred with the duties of royal allegiance. In contrast, it is evident that this episode illustrates a certain general dynamic. The war between Urraca and her husband had devoured Alfonso

4. (The bishop and canon decided that) “the queeen should not be denied the [new] assistance, or the advice that she had requested from the church [of Compostela]”. “They thus ordered, on their own iniciative, that the queen should be given.... one hundred gold onzas and two hundred silver marcas from the treasury of Santiago, to fight against the worst devastation of Spain and put to fight those disrupting the entire kingdom”: Historia Compostellana...: 92-93.

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VI’s treasure in less than two years. It was necessary to resort to the treasures of the ecclesiastic institutions. These had been fed by the long epoch of seigniorial expansion and deep reforms, the good climate of understanding among the powerful, and an atmosphere of authority and peace. Moreover, the Compostela see added its character as the destination of the great Jacobean pilgrimage. This meant constant income from the alms and intense commercial activity. In contrast, the Queen had to renounce a considerable royal patrimony, donating it to cathedrals and monasteries. Generally, these were land and rural and urban property, as well as villages (hereditates and villas). Due to her condition, Urraca had a very wide and complex set of goods and rights (the so-called realengo), and could dispose of the infantazgo (the goods ceded to the daughters of the kings discretely consecrated to God; among these elements, the monasteries of the royal kin stood out). The documentation in the Queen’s chancellery tells us about the range of practices that surrounded this argument, while also suggesting two phases of the requisitions, each with its own scenario.5 As well as the cathedral in Compostela, the monastery of Samos and the cathedrals of Mondoñedo, Oviedo and Lugo supply data about an initial phase covering the 1111-1112 period.6 The evidence is found in the northern parts of the realm, Asturias and Galicia. In contrast, almost all later evidence is from the western regions of the Meseta of the Douro. At least between 1114 and 1124, the Queen and her officials obtained resources in the sees of Palencia, León and Astorga, and the monasteries of Husillos, San Juan de Baños and Valcabado.7 This geographic split in the requisitions suggests that the Queen sought refuge in the lands on the Atlantic at the start of the crisis; her husband then controlled the centre of the kingdom. Later, doña Urraca consolidated her positions in this area; but the faction of her son Alfonso Raimúndez must have slowed her activity almost all over Galicia. Several of the institutions mentioned were repeatedly approached. While, as is seen, Samos was approached in 1112 and 1120, the treasure of the little monastery of Valcabado was ravaged in 1115 and 1116 (and perhaps earlier in 1112), as was that of , at least in 1114 and before 1124, and the one in León, in 1116, 1118 and around 1122. The reiteration of the events does not differ greatly from the tone Alfonso VII used when he proposed to compensate the monastery of Sahagún for being sacked, or that of the Primer Anónimo, when referring to the

5. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca (1109-1126) Cancillería y colección diplomática. Leon: Leon Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 2003. The around twenty diplomas on this type of operations make up 15% of the known documents from the royal chancellery: a considerable figure, a sign of the derivations of the affair. The number of royal diplomas from this period is much smaller than in earlier or later times. Furthermore, this type of documentation is exclusive to Urraca’s reign. On the other hand, it is reasonable to think that the list of institutions approached and volume of the demands was much higher. 6. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 397-398 (doc. No. 27), 398-405 (doc. No. 28), 412-414 (doc. No. 33) and 415-418 (doc. No. 35). 7. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 445-447 (doc. No. 57), 450-452 (doc. No. 60), 473-475 (doc. No. 76), 483 (doc. No. 81), 498-500 (doc. No. 92), 529-532 (doc. No. 109), 539-542 (doc. No. 115), 555-558 (doc. No. 125), 558-559 (doc. No. 126) and 580-582 (doc. No. 141).

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continuous demands from Alfonso el Batallador’s followers in the same place. So the concentration of news in certain centres does not indicate the number of those plundered, but is rather a symptom of the long process of plunder that the religious houses suffered, and that only a few of them have conserved the record. However, the task to solving doña Urraca’s needs did not depend solely on the institutions of the Church. The archdeacon of Oviedo presented a valuable cup to the Queen in 1112, while the cathedral was stamping its treasure. One must imagine other dignitaries from the see itself acting similarly, or replicas of this type in the other chapters. The laity also contributed to the cause. Little is known about them, given the few surviving documents not in ecclesiastic hands. The most clearly identified people are count Froila Díaz and his wife Estefanía, Bermudo Pérez and Diego Fernández, for whom we have information about their contributions in 1112- 1113, and that vouches for the hold Urraca’s supporters had among the nobility.8 In the same line as the episode in the Historia Compostelana, there are diplomas that justify the requisitions through the need to defend the realm against “the invaders” or “the foreign people”. However, attacks by the “counts of the land” are also reported. The local scale of the war between factions is perceived in this, while certain beneficiaries of the crisis are identified.9 Although the Queen mainly granted lands and changes of tenure, she also occasionally confirmed fiscal privileges, or returned property and rights seized some time earlier to their rightful owners. The value of some of these compensations generates doubts, more than the sum obtained by doña Urraca.10 In any case, all the operations together reveal that the Queen gathered both cash and valuables. The quantities of gold and silver coinage stand out, and these were eventually identified by their Islamic or Pyrenean origin. These are “dinares” and “dirhemes” described as auri purissimi metcales and solidi purisimo pondere maurisco, or solidorum iaccensis monete. Less precisely, the solidos de denarios could denote local mintings and copper coins. However, it is common for the metal to appear valued by weight (pondere pessato) in marcas or marcos of silver and uncias or ounces of gold. Apart from this, a range of objects made of precious metals is described: goblets and cups, cutlery and pieces of crockery, some rings and certain pieces of riding

8. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 405-407 (doc. No. 29), 423-424 (doc. No. 39), 431 (doc. No. 46), 435 (doc. No. 50) and 457-459 (doc. No. 65) (see also foot note 34). 9. Thus, the queen stated that with the 12 marcas of silver requisitioned in the cathedral of Mondoñedo (1112), she would fight the counts who harmed the interests of the see itself, recently established in Villamayor de Val de Brea (Volens Valibriensem ecclessiam... deliberare de multis persecutionibus quae actenus per comites terrarum passa est; Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 397-398 (doc. No. 27). 10. The Liber Testamentorum and the Libro de la Regla Colorada from both include versions of a document that annotated the enormous amount of money and precious metals that the famous Bishop Pelayo of Oviedo handed over to the queen in 1112, from the treasure of the see: 9280 metkales and 10400 solidos. On the other hand, doña Urraca granted him places, monasteries, lands and servile familias and, notably, the city of Oviedo itself in perpetuity, with its castle, land and jurisdiction, sicut ad regale ius pertinet. The specialists reject the last part, as well as the diplomatic formulae used (Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 163-165).

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harnesses. These were in addition to sacred ornaments-crosses, chalices, plus some frontals or altar tables.11 What was the fate of these objects? In general, the details are limited to annotations about what the Queen seized and what it was valued at or weighed. That is why the data about two acts of pillage that the monastery of Valcabado suffered are significant. No acts are registered in the chancellery, but rather the circumstances that imply the decision to confiscate. In early 1115, the Queen ordered Tello Fernández, her right-hand man in the area of Saldaña, to hand “la plata” (the silver) from the monastery (three goblets, a salt cellar and a cithara, maybe a small cauldron) over to “Pedro González” (perhaps Count Pedro González de Lara, the leading magnate on her side), and value it, then citing below the payment of the corresponding sum. At the end of the following year, the Queen ordered the same Tello Fernández to dismantle the monastery cross. This was a piece in silver that her aunt, Princess Elvira had ordered made. Nine marcas of silver were obtained; seven of these were handed over to one Pedro Peláez. Christians and Jews from the nearby town of Saldaña testified to both acts.12 As can be appreciated, decisions for the supply of resources were taken in the court and these were executed by territorial officials like Tello Fernández. When deciding or executing the decisions, it seems that not only chrematistic criteria were taken into account, nor did they seek to strip the house of all its treasures instantaneously. Thus, first the rich pieces of the tableware were taken. It was almost two years later when a liturgical cross that had been commissioned by women from the royal family itself was dismantled, in other words, this combined a double component of veneration and respect. The tasks of inspecting (like weighing and eventually dismantling the pieces) had to be entrusted to experts. The intervention of Hebrew- origin goldsmiths is suggested by the notable role of local Jews in the reports, very

11. Gautier, Jean. “L’’argent’ dans l’Historia Compostellana. Un moment de l’histoire monetaire du León et de la Castille”, Estudios en Homenaje a Don Claudio Sánchez Albornoz en sus 90 años [Anexos de Cuadernos de Historia de España]. Buenos Aires: Instituto de Historia de España, 1983: II, 423-452. The news that accompanies the requisition of the frontispiece of the main altar in Lugo Cathedral, dedicated to the Virgin Mary in 1112 is of special interest. The text requests her help to obtain and possess the kingdom peacefully; it also ponders the Marian relics kept in the see that work miracles and receive alms. In short, the requisition is valued at 100 silver marcas and it is assured that this is destined to paying the royal troops (ut reddam donativa militibus meis) (Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 412-414, doc. No. 33). 12. I am indebted to Amancio Isla for an insightful comment. Although the second text seems to reflect that a large part of the silver was given to Pedro Peláez for a horse, it is possible that the seven marcas of silver remunerated his (indeterminate) services, and that Pedro Peláez handed over the horse as a roboratione, a traditional gesture of an offering; with it, the beneficiaries of a royal reward responded to the donation received. The roborationes (in Spanish robra) are also seen in private operations. They may be called ofertiones, and are conceptually similar to the notion of “contradón” or counter-gift. The two texts were written in notitia form, making use of a blank in fol. 3r of the so-called “Beato de Valcavado” (a copy of the well-known “Comentarios al Apocalipsis” by the Beato de Liébana, dated 970; it is in the Historical Library at the University of Valladolid). There are really four notitias, two of which are illegible; it is likely that all dealt with the same theme and were written at the same time. The editor interprets that their inclusion in a prestigious manuscript was full of symbolism, as they solemnised a future claim. (Ruiz, José Manuel. “El códice del Beato de Valcavado”, Beato de Valcavado: Estudios. Valladolid: Secretariado de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Valladolid, 1993: II, 43-44).

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strange in the diplomatic customs except under exceptional circumstances, as in this case. In short, the events suggest that the sale or investment of the resources mentioned could have been immediate, and that the costs of war ate these up rapidly.

2. War, exercise of disorder, destruction and plunder

In the war situation of the reign of doña Urraca and the intense devastation it meant, the whole society was involved. The diplomas, chronicles and other versions coincide in this perception. In 1127, a certain diploma of Alfonso VII described the cruel and systematic havoc that had afflicted the king’s property and men in León and the Tierra de Campos: it mentioned the murder and plundering of the Jews, the destruction of royal palaces, wine cellars and granaries, the burning of his forests and the emptying of the hunting grounds. It did not accuse isolated individuals or bands of outlaws of these crimes. The new king imposed a fine on all the homes in a wide area —the lands and alfoces between the rivers Cea and Carrión, the Way of Saint James and the Cantabrian Mountains. It also highlighted that the unrest had begun on the death of Alfonso VI, and had continued unabated until recent times.13 The Primer Anónimo from Sahagún Monastery describes something similar in the same scenario.14 Other similar data are known from various areas of the kingdom, with a particular incidence along the Way of Saint James. In western Castile, the fuero of Castrogeriz gave notice that, after Alfonso VI died, the people of the towns and the area attacked the Jews who lived in Castrillo, a hamlet in the alfoz, “matando a algunos, apresando a otros y saqueando a todos”.15 Other witnesses evoke the general state of ruin of the rural environments. Among the most expressive is the

13. ...de malis que fecistis in iudaeos quos occidistis et accepistis suum avere, et in meos palazios quos destruxistis, et panem et vinum que inde accepistis et aurum et argentum et alia omnia multa, et meos montes quos comburastis et abscidistis et extinguistis venatu. Istas tres causas dimitto vobis et progenie vestra per secula. Et hoc feci pro amore Dei et remissione parentum meorum et pro diligentia quam habetis coram me. Et insuper accepi pecunias IIos solidos de argento, de unaquaque casa istorum hominum quos supra diximus. Et ego sum pagadus a vobis, et vos liberi... (Colección Diplomática del Monasterio de Sahagún... : 111-112, doc. No. 1231). 14. [Los campesinos] levantáronse entonces a manera de bestias fieras... rompiendo e quebrantando los Palacios de los Reyes, las casas de los nobles, las Iglesias de los Obispos, e las Granjas, e obediencias de los abades; e otrosi gastando todas las cosas necesarias para el mantenimiento, matando los judíos que fallavan... Escalona, Fray Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún, Madrid, 1782, Apéndice Primero, Primer Anónimo: 305 (from no won: Primer Anónimo de Sahagún). The similarity between the two texts is intriguing. On the other hand, this should be evaluated as a ’mole’, understanding his sentence by the ecclesiastics (and its possible exaggeration), as a resort to emphasise “the dangers of the subversion of order” (Pallares, Maria del Carmen; Portela, Ermelindo. La reina Urraca...: 152). 15. “Killing some, taking others hostage and robbing all”... Et levaverunt se barones de Castro cum tota sua alfoz ad illa morte de rege Aldefonso super illos iudeos de Castriello, et ex illis occiderunt et ex illis captivaverunt, et totos illos predaverunt...” (Martínez, Gonzalo. Los fueros de Castrogeriz. Burgos: Rico Adrados, 2010: 54). In line with other information from the same fuero, around 1035, there was a firstpogrom in which some seventy Jews from the town died; the others were forced to move to Castrillo, where a second massacre took place. The village is still known as “Castrillo de Matajudíos”. Queen Urraca and her husband, Alfonso el

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inventory of disasters that appears in the preamble of the fuero of Oca. The discord between Queen Urraca and Alfonso el Batallador had turned into great clashes between their supporters in the lands of eastern Castile. Both sides took hostages and demanded huge ransoms. Both sides had converted cities and castles into lairs from which to sack the surroundings, desecrating holy places and stealing grain, wine and livestock; they also took the inhabitants prisoner, demanding enormous ransoms for their freedom, among other acts. They were, the text states, “como sarracenos y cananeos”, “como herejes y cismáticos”. There was so much desolation that it was only possible to live in caves, or under the paradoxical shelter of cities and castles.16 Other images detail how the violence of the war activated the circulation of wealth —although in a different way from the requisition of Queen Urraca. The testimonials and their actors are found from the Castilian frontier to the heart of Galicia. The nobles, backed by the peasants, were the protagonists of one of the episodes that the Historia compostelana reflects on. This is the “treason” by Arias Pérez and other Galician lords to the archbishop Diego Gelmírez and the Count Pedro Froilaz, Infante Alfonso Raimúndez’s champions. The conspirators seized the Count’s wife, who was the prince’s nanny, and the Infante himself, mistreating his knights. The “traitors” and the “brotherhood” that framed the people of the country later attacked the prelate’s camp. They stole his trousseau and sacred medals, which they broke up to share out. The chronicler refers to them adorning their belts and the hems of their vestments with the cloth from the bishop’s chasuble; they also dismantled the golden chalice that was kept in the prelate’s portable chapel, his silver altar and a crucifix of extraordinary value.17 The harnesses and equipment of

Batallador, tried to prevent new massacres; from then on, anyone who killed a Jew in Castrogeriz would suffer the same punishment as for the death of a Christian. 16. “like Saracens and Canaanites” “like heretics and schismatics” This fuero, conserved among the papers in the monastery of San Juan de la Peña, has been dated from the mid 12th century. It begins with a profoundly dramatic report on the origins of the town of Villafranca Montes de Oca: Audite de temporibus quando mortuus est rex Ildefonsus imperator tocius Spanie... Et prendit unus a destris et alter a sinistris cum hostes suas, et preliabuntur inter se usque ad mortem. Et captivabunt se alter ad alteri sicut sarrazini et canaeni. Et mittunt se in graves presones et in ferros magnos et innumerabiles tormentas in fame et siti et nuditate, usque se reddemissent quantum possunt dare aut promittere. Et exeunt de civitatibus aut de castellis et predabunt omnia terra, monasteriis violabunt, ecclesiis et omnia ornamenta qui ad Deum pertinet extrahunt de eas sicut aeritici et scimatici, sine ulla misericordia. Et predabunt universa terra panem et vinum et omnia indumenta et animalia, iumenta et peccora, et omnes homines ducebant captivos et mittebant illis in tortoribus atque cruationibus ut se reddemisent, quod non habebant. Et erat tantum desolata hec terra, ita ut non possunt omnes habitare in ea, si non est in civitate aut in castello vel in spelunca aut in cavernis terrae... (Lacarra, José María, ed. “Dos documentos interesantes para la historia de Portugal”, Colonización, parias, repoblación y otros estudios. Saragossa: Anubar, 1981: 222). 17. ...non solum omnia presulis suppellectilia abstulerunt, verum etiam, quod humanis auribus terribile insonat, in eius capellam suas manus sacrilegas iniecerunt: eius namque infulam iuxta insaciatam luporum rapacitatem inter se frustatim diripientes suis pravis usibus profuturam conservari non horruerunt; ex qua nimirum ínfula suarum vestium horas et limbos quasi decorando sine ulla mora temporis dedecorarunt. Aureum quoque vasculum, quo Dominicum corpus, nostra scilicet hostia salutaris, immolatur, timembri divisione partientes ille inferiorem partem, iste vero superiorem, hic autem reliquam parte sibi exsecrabilius vendicare procul procul dubio non formidarunt. Aram denique argenteam et crucifixum mirifica aurificis manu consculptum nulla dissimili ratione partiti sunt... (Historia Compostellana...: 93).

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the fear-stricken episcopal host suffered the same fate. The understanding between nobles and peasants to carry out these outrages the chroniclers denounced must not have been rare in those times.18 The case of one by the name of Sancho, servant of a neighbour from Estella, illustrates a different perspective: that of a modest combatant who served as a foot- soldier or knight on one of Alfonso el Batallador’s military expeditions to Castile. The king having ordered that each household had to contribute one man for the war, the burgher Pedro Engelberti, who spent his later years as a monk in the Cluniac priory of Santa María de Nájera, sent him as his contribution. During the expedition, there was no lack of opportunities to rob. In particular, Sancho and his companions sacked a certain church, from which they took various liturgical vestments. It seems that he had these with him when he returned to Navarre shortly after. He died with this guilt and, according to what Peter the Venerable wrote, his old owner was a witness to his unearthly penance.19 The role of the urban populations in the war offers a new point of view. The chroniclers echo how the people of the towns and cities participated in the campaigns of Alfonso el Batallador. Contingents from Nájera and Carrión, León, Burgos, as well as Zamora, Palencia and Sahagún took part in the siege of Astorga.20 The news concerns particularly “Frankish” burghers from Sahagún, the main antagonists of the monastery of Sahagún throughout the Primer Anónimo. Its author portrayed them as accomplices, even instigators of the brutality of the Aragonese king, his brother the “false monk” Ramiro and his knights. In fact, he argued, there were

18. The chronicle of the monastery of Sahagún highlights the collusion between the rebellious peasants in the district (who also organised themselves as a “brotherhood”), and those nobles who show a willingness to be their defenders:...En este tiempo todos los rústicos labradores, é menuda gente se ayuntaron, faciendo conjuración contra sus señores, que ninguno de ellos diese a sus señores servicio debido. E a esta conjuración llamaban hermandad... e si alguno de los Nobles les diese favor e ayuda, á tal como este deseaban que fuese su Rey, y Señor... (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 305). 19. In 1141, the famous abbot Peter the Venerable travelled to Spain to negotiate with Alfonso VII for the restoration of the census of 500/1000 gold coins that his ancestors Ferdinand I and Alfonso VI had paid to the monastery of Cluny in other times. On passing the priory of Nájera, he heard from Pedro Engelberti himself the tale of a prodigious vision. The spectre of the servant, who had died shortly after his return from the war, had once appeared to him. He commissioned him to pay off certain debts he had left on dying; at the same time, he explained that he was part of “an army” of sorrowful souls that came to Castile to compensate for the crimes they had committed during the campaigns of Alfonso el Batallador. He also explained that the Aragonese king had spent a long time in Purgatory, before being freed “by the prayers of the Cluniac monks” (Petrus Venerabilis, De Miraculis. Mâcon, Bibliotheca Cluniacensis, 1915: 1293-1296; Lacarra, José María. “Una aparición de ultratumba en Estella”. Príncipe de Viana, 14 (1944): 173-184). 20. Historia Compostellana: 113-114; it contrasts the identification of theBattler ’s troops by their towns and cities of origin with the queen’s army, more territorial (Galicia and the Tierra de Campos are mentioned, plus Castilians and Asturians). About the importance of the emigration of “francos” to the western part of the Peninsula, their otherness and their dynamic role in urban environments, Martínez, Pascual. “Los francos en la España de los siglos XI y XII”, Los fueros de Avilés y su época, Juan Ignacio Ruiz de la Peña, Maria Josefa Sanz, Miguel Calleja, coords. Oviedo: Real Instituto de Estudios Asturianos, 2012: 253-280.

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no good “Frankish” burghers, not even the clergy, as greed that did not stop before sacrilege or murder prevailed in all of them.21 Various accounts in this work reiterate or detail what is referred to above. Thus, there is information that details the accounts in the preamble of the fuero of Oca or the Historia Compostelana about the captives and extortion that had accompanied the factional fighting and raids. It speaks harshly of how the burghers preyed on “nobles and knights” or “middling and rich” of the surroundings. The aim was to obtain large ransoms. The prisoners were subjected to torture of all kinds to break their will, and those who could sought hostages to take their place. It also describes the rise of a market for the resale of captives. Their price varied according to what each could offer to buy his or her own freedom and the competition between their captors to obtain “mayor ganancia de ellos”. 22 The abbot de Sahagún appears as a victim of a similar assault to the one suffered by Bishop Gelmírez in the Historia Compostelana. During a tour of his priories or “obediencias”, Abbot Domingo had arrived in San Pedro de las Dueñas, the nearby monastery that was the female subsidiary of Sahagún. Burghers from the town and Aragonese knights surprised the party there and stripped them of all they had.23 San Pedro de las Dueñas suffered other attacks. In one of these, burghers burst into the monastery, “y robaron todo aquello que sus manos hallaron”, among other things, the amounts placed in protection there by members of the nobility.24 This shows that the monastery was unable to protect the wealth of the high-ranking people. According to the Historia Compostelana, neither the churches of nor those of Tierra de Campos were able to protect what the common people deposited in them, in the vain hope that their sacredness would preserve this from plunder. The testimonies coincide: Urraca’s reign was a time of war, and in that time, the circulation of wealth acquired peculiar features, among which the ongoing generalised confiscation stands out. Monarchs and knights, burghers and peasants, Christians and Jews —all participated in the vicissitudes of a time with an air of a bloody feast, even switching roles depending on the circumstances. It is clear, moreover, that the seizures did not only affect precious objects. The confiscation of land destined for the needs of war was regularly sandwiched between

21. Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 313 and 320. 22. “greater profit from them” Escalona, Romualdo de.Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 322-324. The abuse could end up with the death of the prisoner, as narrated about a certain burgher, in whose house were found the remains of several people who had assassinated: era por cierto aquel eunuco del cuento e numero de aquellos que acostumbraban comprar los captivos, e dándoles graves tormentos demandábanles siete tanto de aquello que habían dado (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 345). 23. ...Luego los echaron por tierra, las arcas e todo lo que llevábamos todo lo tomaron, y despojaron a los hombres, including the chapel the abbot carried (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 322). 24. “and stole everything their hands found there”: Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 331.

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operations. Undoubtedly, income from the land covered part of the funding of the war, paying the salaries of the fighters.25

3. The army on the march: The campaign against Alfonso el Batallador (1127)

Peter, archdeacon of , spent a good part of the summer of 1127 in the lands on the Douro. He had been sent by his lord, Ramón Berenguer III, Count of Barcelona and Besalú, dux and Marquis of Provence, to receive on his behalf a solemn oath from Alfonso VII and his magnates. As part of the negotiations for the marriage of the splendid king of León and Castile to his daughter Berengaria, the count demanded guarantees that the union would be blessed canonically, and that the king would never leave his wife. There is a document in the Archive of the Crown of Aragon that explains the commitment through a series of ceremonies similar to Alfonso VII’s oath to his future father-in-law.26 On each occasion, the place, the day and names of the delegates are detailed. The ceremonies stretched from the 23rd of June to the 25th of July. On the former date, the archdeacon received the monarch’s oath in Sahagún Monastery, seconded by one of his nobles. Six days later, on the 29th of June, the monastery of San Zoilo of Carrión was the scenario of the second. On the 2nd of July, the archdeacon was in Frómista, whose church of San Martín hosted the third. On the 4th of July, the fourth took place in Palenzuela (Palencie comitis in the text). On the 9th and 25th of the same month, the archdeacon requested the last commitments in two churches in Burgos. His commentators have estimated that the alliance between Barcelona and León, assured with the marriage of Alfonso and Berenguela in the autumn of 1128, involved the wish to neutralize King Alfonso el Batallador.27

25. In early April 1127, Alfonso VII returned the Sahagún Monastery to the Priory of San Salvador de Nogal de las Huertas, close to the town of Carrión. Remembering the difficulties that he faced to obtain the kingdom, the monarch explained that he had requisitioned it to use its property and incomes to pay his knights. (multis pro captando regno neccesitatibus... meis illud militibus dedi; Colección Diplomática del Monasterio de Sahagún (857-1230). IV (1110-1199), 110-111, doc. No. 1230). 26. Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Real Cancillería, pergaminos de Ramón Berenguer III, s/f, doc. No. 28. The formula used consisted of an oath to the count (Iuro ego [X, Y, Z...] tibi Raimundo Barchinonensis et Bisuldunensis comiti et Provincie duci ac marchioni) in which the marriage of the sovereign to Berenguela was guaranteed cum benediccione ecclesiastica et... eam ullo modo non dimittat per Deum et hec [sanctam scripturam]. 27. Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte. Mariage et pouvoir en Catalogne (785-1213). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1995: 373-374. Reilly, Bernard F. The Kingdom of León-Castilla Under King Alfonso VII 1126- 1157. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998: 19-20. Reilly has considered it evidence of the young king’s haste to marry and ensure his still-unstable political position, underlining the text’s peculiarities and diplomatic shortcomings. While Aurell suggests that it is an original (“Ramón Berenguer III’s emissary had returned to Barcelona with the document attesting to his promise”, Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte...: 373), Reilly considers that the document, “written in Carolingian script on an irregular piece of parchment”, is “a 13th-century copy which is extracted from a longer, more formal account by

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However, the document is open to other readings. The names of the participants, the ritual elements it contains, or the sequence of the acts, offer quite a lot of information about who the men of the moment probably were, the ways of underlining the sacred nature of the agreement, or about the meaning of territorial. To begin with, the scenarios draw our attention. It is clear that the ceremonies were concentrated on a certain stretch of the Way of Saint James as it crosses the Meseta. Indeed, the towns of Sahagún, Carrión and Frómista, plus the city of Burgos, were in a line on the corridor, summarised shortly after in the “Pilgrim’s Guide”.28 Two clarifications are necessary: it is clear that the archdeacon was travelling in the opposite direction to the pilgrimage, as if he were coming from Santiago de Compostela, and that he left the route momentarily after Frómista, deviating a few kilometres south to stop in Palenzuela; in the final weeks of his mission, he remained in the Castilian capital, once again on the Way. The order of the stages simply certifies the importance of the Way as a backbone of the kingdom in that epoch. As well as a route for pilgrimage, as the mentioned guide emphasises, the Jacobean corridor was the main communication route in the Hispanic north, “the great route” that al-Idrîsî described around the same time.29 The towns and cities that festooned it were thus a rosary of strategic points for trade, control of the land or war, as well as for piety. From this perspective, the Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris offers parallel evidence about the delicate situation of the time in the west of the Peninsula. King Alfonso el Batallador had entered Castile in summer 1127 to reinforce Nájera, Castrogeriz and many other castles he possessed in the surroundings. On hearing the news, Alfonso VII sent emissaries to Galicia and Asturias, León and Castile to raise troops. A large army gathered, and set off to meet the Aragonese, who they sighted in Vallis Tamari. The place, between Castrogeriz and Hornillos del Camino, must correspond to the area around the modern Tamarón. A century before, there had been a battle where Ferdinand I of Castile defeated and killed King Vermudo III of León. However, this time no fighting took place. TheChronica sustains that being aware of his difficult position and that he could not withdraw without the risk of being harassed, the Battler sent envoys to Alfonso VII. In his proposal he promised to return to his homeland in less than forty days and not to deviate from the via on the entire route. Alfonso VII accepted this, pressured by his advisers.30 Considering these circumstances, it is clear that the Catalan clergyman accompanied the royal army on its march to the east. The places mentioned indicate a scribe who was not too familiar with the older text of the original” (Reilly, Bernard F. The Kingdom of León-Castilla...: 19, doc. No. 15). 28. Liber Sancti Iacobi. Codex Calixtinus, eds. Klaus Herbers, Manuel Santos. La Coruña: Xunta de Galicia, 1998: 236, liber V, capitulum III [de nominibus villarum itineris Sancti Iacobi]:...inde urbs Burgas [Burgos], inde Alterdallia [Tardajos], inde Furnellos [Hornillos], inde Castra Sorecia [Castrogeriz], inde pons Fiterie [el puente de Hitero], inde Frumesta [Frómista], inde Karrionus [Carrión de los Condes], que est villa abilis et obtima, pane et vino et carne et omni fertilitate felix, inde est Sanctus Facundus [Sahagún], omnibus felicitatibus affluens... 29. Idrîsî. La prémière géographie de l’Occident, eds. Henri Bresc, Annliese Nef, Paris: Flammarion, 1999: 41. 30. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris, [Chronica Hispana Saeculi XII. Pars I], eds. Emma Falque, Juan Gil, Antonio Maya. Turnhout: Brepols, 1990: 154-155. This via is the Way of Saint James.

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the stages it followed and justify a significant omission: under normal circumstances, the archdeacon would have gone from Frómista to Burgos passing through Castrogeriz, without leaving the Way. His deviation to the south is a reminder that the circumstances in 1127 were exceptional. Castrogeriz was one of the places that had been in Aragonese hands for some time; as mentioned above, its garrison did not leave until 1131. The dates and locations of the oaths suggest other reflections. On the 23rd of June, eve of the feast of Saint John the Baptist, the first of the ceremonies was held on the altar dedicated to the Holy Precursor in the monastery in Sahagún. Certainly, such a precise conjunction of time and space served to reinforce the sacredness of the act, integrating it into the characteristics of one of the great feasts of the liturgical calendar. Regarding the 29th of June, the scenario of the ceremony was the altar of the Virgin Mary in San Zoilo of Carrión. In this case, the text itself names the feast day, not the date of the month (die festo Sancti Petri), which underlines the charisma of the ceremony: the commemoration of Saint Peter, of particular importance in the order of Cluny as the co-patron of the house. The commemoration of Saint Peter also impregnates the immediate swearing of the oath on the altar of San Martín of Frómista (sabbato post festum Sancti Petri). It must be added that this other monastery depended on San Zoilo of Carrión, and its founding in the mid 11th century by the Countess-Queen Mayor, Ferdinand I’s mother, linked it closely to the royal family; Queen Urraca had renounced its ownership as recently as 1118.31 With regard to Palenzuela, the celebration before the altar of Saint Eulalia recalls that this teenage martyr was the patron saint of the city of Barcelona and co-holder of the cathedral, where her relics were worshiped. It is appropriate to emphasize the symbolism of a ceremony officiated by a dignitary from the seat of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia as a representative of the lord of the saint’s city and before an altar where her relics were also kept.32 In short, the ceremony of the oath on the altar of

31. Reformed by Alfonso VI, Sahagún was the home of the tomb of this monarch, Alfonso VII’s grandfather and the model for his restorative policy —as its black monks were careful to point out. The customs of Cluny were followed in this monastery but it was not part of the Cluniacensis Ecclesia, in contrast with San Zoilo and San Martín in Frómista. After 1173, San Zoilo became a stable seat of the Camerarius of Cluny in Spain —in other words, of the abbot’s representative, its prior assimilating this condition. Yet, the house must have been the residence of some previous steward, and perhaps the prior Esteban held both posts around 1127 (Reglero, Carlos Manuel. Cluny en España. Los prioratos de la provincia y sus redes sociales (1073-ca. 1270). Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 2008: 608 and following). About the problems of the founding and architecture of the latter famous monastery, see Senra, José Luis. “Origen, muerte y resurrección de la iglesia de San Martín de Frómista”, Frómista 1066- 1904. San Martín, centenario de una restauración, Javier Ribera, coord. Valladolid: Fundación del Patrimonio Histórico de Castilla y León, 2004: 19-37. 32. Parallel traditions propose that there were two saints with the same name who suffered similar martyrdoms in the times of the Emperor Diocletian, one in Mérida and the other in Barcelona. Various explanations have been sought for such a rare coincidence. The most likely does not question the antiquity of the cult of the Mérida saint and suggests that “the presence of a relic [of hers in Barcelona] led to the duplication of the saints”; there is a lack of strong evidence to believe that this incident occurred before the 8th century, the inventio of the Barcelona relics and their transfer to the cathedral being dated from 877 (García, Carmen. El culto de los santos en la España romana y visigoda. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1966: 284-303; quote on page 288). The transfer and worship

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Santiago of Burgos was held on the same day as the apostle’s feast, which indicates that the keys described above were used rather systematically. This time, it is again fitting to highlight the diverse and complex links of the worship and the house of the Hijo del Trueno (Son of Thunder) with the Leonese monarchy.33 The personality of the noble guarantors of the commitment reveals another key to the situation.34 In Sahagún, Rodrigo Martínez, princeps Legionis was next to the king. Rodrigo Martínez could trace his lineage back to at least the early days of King Ramiro II of León, two centuries before. His father, Count Martín Flaínez, had been the most important of the Leonese lords from the beginning of the 1090s until his death in 1108 at the massacre of Uclés. Four magnates coincided in the monastery of San Zoilo. These were Pedro López, the tenente of the town of Carrión; Ladrón, from Álava, who had become a vassal of Alfonso VII; Count Suero Vermúdez, lord of western Asturias, and Ramiro Froilaz. Count Suero had cemented his personal success on unwavering loyalty to Queen Urraca, after whose death he moved into service to his son. Ramiro Froilaz, in contrast, was another member of the same kin as Rodrigo Martínez; his father, Count Froila Díaz, became comes legionensium after the death of Martín Flaínez, remaining by the Queen’s side until his demise in 1119. Instead, in Frómista, only the count Peter of Lara swore the oath, in other words, Pedro González de Lara, never welcomed by Urraca’s son and heir.35 Two other magnates swore the oath in Palenzuela: Lope Díaz “de Alava” —commonly identified by his sobriquet “de Haro” and his title as Count of Vizcaya—, and García Garcés de Nájera, son of another of those who fell at Uclés, Count García Ordóñez. of relics of the Mérida Eulalia in the lands in the north-west could have been posterior to the Islamic conquest (as occurred in other cases). In short, a different scenario to the passion of the martyr could be recreated —duplicating her personality. On the other hand, the spread of the cult of Saint Eulalia in Castile and León could somehow depend on the religious climate in the north-east of Spain: The Catalan clergy, particularly in Oviedo and Palencia in the 11th century, together with their influx in the implantation of some other cult, especially that of Saint Antoninus, must be borne in mind (Martínez, Gonzalo. La sede episcopal de Palencia hasta 1085. Palencia: Asociación de Amigos de la Catedral, 1994). Anyway, it is probable that the archdeacon and those attending the ceremony accepted the two alleged martyrs without any great problems. 33. Herbers, Klaus. Política y veneración de santos en la Península Ibérica. Desarrollo del “Santiago político”. Pontevedra: Fundación Cultural de Amigos del Románico, 2006: 43-55; the author considers the reign of Alfonso VII crucial. 34. An overview of the nobility in this period, accompanied by a useful prosopography of the counts, in Barton, Simon. The aristocracy in twelfth-century León and Castile. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Various of the nobles cited in the text have merited recent monographs. For Suero Vermúdez: Calleja, Miguel. El conde Suero Vermúdez, su parentela y su entorno social. La aristocracia asturleonesa en los siglos XI y XII. Oviedo: KRK ediciones, 2001. About Pedro and Rodrigo González de Lara: Sánchez, Antonio. Los Lara. Un linaje castellano de la plena Edad Media. Burgos: Diputación de Burgos, 2007: 29-47. Regarding Rodrigo Martínez and his distant cousin, Ramiro Froilaz: Martínez, Pascual. “Los espacios de poder de la nobleza leonesa en el siglo XII”, La pervivencia del concepto. Nuevas reflexiones sobre la ordenación social del espacio en la Edad Media, José Ángel Sesma, Carlos Laliena, coords. Saragossa: Universidad de Zaragoza, 2008: 219-257. 35. In the same line, Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris, a model of palace chronicle, does not hesitate to repeatedly denounce his connivance with the Aragonese sovereign; this time, it holds him responsible for preventing Alfonso VII from launching a decisive attack on his enemy.

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There were two successive ceremonies in Burgos, as mentioned above. The one before the altar of Saint Stephen was carried out by Count Rodrigo “de las Asturias” (Rodrigo González, brother of the Lord of Lara), who dominated the “Asturias de Santillana”, and Count Bertrán de Risnel, one of the Frankish nobles who entered Castile with Alfonso el Batallador.36 Finally, the oath sworn on the Altar of Santiago was attended by Rodrigo Gómez. He was from the house of Salvadórez, lords of the Bureba, and his father had been Count Gómez González, who died in Queen Urraca’s service. The areas dominated by ones or the others covered a wide space, from the Cantabrian sea to the Douro, and from the Bierzo to the Ebro and the Iberian mountains. Although it contains no mention of nobles from Galicia, the document is a very significant register. A certain dynamic is evidenced from these data. On the one hand, the guarantees that the count of Barcelona had demanded were given in stages, as the great lords with their retinues joined the royal army advancing along the Way of Saint James to meet Alfonso el Batallador (or even in Burgos, with the campaign completed with advantage for Alfonso VII). On the other hand, the calendar of the festivities, and the monasteries, churches and altars with the relics of their namesakes, were carefully interwoven. With this, the sacred, memorial and propitiatory sense of a repetition of political acts was emphasised. A certain calculation can be perceived in the liturgy and power that surrounded these: the strengthening of the ties between the monarch, the warlords and the army to ensure military success.

4. The losers of 1130

The Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris supplies much other news about the prolongation of the instability and war after the death of doña Urraca in March 1126. Recently these have been integrated into a wide perspective that describes the fate of the defeated parties in the Spain of the High and Late Middle Ages.37 The pages of this chronicle contain various actors, always nobles, and varied formulae for resolving conflicts. The necessary capture, timely mercy and rigorous imprisonment were useful instruments for dismantling revolts. Humiliation and the loss of goods and honours published the sometimes-definitive failure of the rebellious. The recognition of guilt could temper the king’s wrath, according to the chronicler. In the opposite sense, guilty acts came to lead to infamy for the whole

36. Bertrán de Risnel had become Count Pedro González de Lara’s son-in-law. Now, after Burgos had been recovered by Alfonso VII, he remained as lord of the city; the ambiguous position of his new relatives must be borne in mind. 37. Alvira, Martín. “Rebeldes y herejes vencidos en las fuentes cronísticas hispanas (siglos XI-XIII)”, El cuerpo derrotados: cómo trataban musulmanes y cristianos a los enemigos vencidos (Península Ibérica, ss. VIII-XIII), Maribel Fierro, Francisco García Fitz, coords. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2008: 213-223.

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family. Moreover, this further alienated the rebels from the executors of royal policy (who were always other nobles). Most of those mentioned had been relevant figures in the court of Queen Urraca, a possible indication that the process of succession was far from meeting the expectations of many of her loyal supporters. This was the case of the Castilian counts Pedro and Rodrigo González de Lara, or the Asturian magnates Gonzalo Peláez and Pedro Díaz. They all rebelled against her successor, Alfonso VII, in the first years of his rule. The truth is that the young monarch placed his cause in the hands of some of his mother’s other old servants, like the counts Suero Vermúdez and Rodrigo Martínez. The chronicle does not dwell on the reasons of rebels and loyalists, beyond denouncing that some had betrayed a commitment of allegiance to the monarch that the others maintained, and perceiving certain connivance of some with Alfonso el Batallador (a useful illustration of changes of allegiance).38 After all, an exemplary story like this need not be very analytical. However, some of its descriptions go beyond the episodic. The rebellion of Pedro Díaz is of special interest for the case. In 1130, this former champion of the Queen was strong in Valle, an oppidum situated a day’s ride from León.39 It seems that he was followed by a considerable number of knights and commoners, who perhaps formed an armed retinue of clients or non-noble vassals. The king entrusted the task of reducing it to Count Rodrigo Martínez, together with his brother, Osorio. As he failed to obtain results, the monarch had to go there in person. He ordered his ministros, a body of experts, to build siege machines. Given their destructive effects, the fortress had to surrender.40

38. Escalona, Julio. “Misericordia regia, es decir, negociemos. Alfonso VII y los Lara en la Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris”, Lucha política. Condena y legitimación en la España medieval, Isabel Alfonso, Julio Escalona, Georges Martin, coords. Lyon: ENS Éditions, 2004: 101-152. 39. The name corresponds to the village of Valle de Mansilla. There are still imprints there of two fortified areas with earthworks, El Castro and La Torre Vieja. The first is an ancient complex situated on the heights of the terraces of the Esla. It is estimated that it was reoccupied in the 10th century. However, over the following century, a process of the habitat sliding down to the lower valle, its current location, took place. At the same time, the second of the fortified areas must have been conditioned, a short distance from the former. The latter is smaller and has a certain aspect of a hillock (a moat and a perimetral slope elevate it). The latter has been identified as theoppidum de Valle of the chronicle (Gutiérrez, José Avelino. Fortificaciones y feudalismo en el origen y formación del reino leonés (siglos IX-XIII), Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid, 1995: 318-321). It appears that Pedro Díaz had been tenente of the pace during the 1120s (Colección Documental del Monasterio de San Pedro de Eslonza. I (912-1300), eds. José Manuel Ruiz, Irene Ruiz. Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 2007: 1120 (doc. No. 81) and 207-209 (doc. No. 83, 1126); given what is read in this latter diploma, he may also have held the post of tenente of Toledo and the illas torres in León). The author annotated a later indication in the castellum que fuit de Petro Didaz, 321 (doc. No. 151; it's dated in 1179). 40. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris...: 159-160: Precepit rex Legionis comiti Roderico Martini et fratri suo Osorio ut uenirent in terram Legionis et obsiderent Petrum Didaci, qui erat rebellis in oppido Valle cum magna turba militum et peditum. Et uenerunt et obsederunt illud castellum. Sed qui intus erant dicebant multam blasphemiam comiti Roderico et fratri suo et comes non poterat firmiter debellare eos. Hoc audito rex festinus uenit et iussit ministris suis facere uineas et machinas et multa ingenia circa muros castelli. Et illi, qui cum rege erant, mittebant super ipsos, qui intus erant, multas sagittas et petras et dirupti sunt muri eius in circuitu. At Petrus Didaci, cum uideret se nimium

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Then a striking event took place: Pedro Díaz requested to be put under the king’s custody. He feared Rodrigo Martínez, from whom he expected no mercy. It should be noted that the order to attack the rebels was given by the tenente of Las Torres in León, the most important and closest royal castle. This post had previously been in the hands of Pedro Díaz himself, which may suggest an unfriendly takeover. In addition, Pedro Diaz’s co-adventurers, perhaps the same ones that had been in his service in Leon, had mocked the count’s useless attacks. Indeed, Pedro Díaz managed to avoid the count’s revenge. However, the chronicler estimates that he lost all possibility of obtaining any benefit from Alfonso VII (nor anyone else), and died in misery.41 Meanwhile, his men were left at the mercy of Rodrigo Martínez. What is interesting about this part of the text is that it shows examples of how the losers were treated. The first mention is for those who were placed in prison to force them to hand over all their belongings. Then, those who remained were obliged to render service as knights, but for free and for an unlimited time. The last group was made up of those accused of insulting the count. They were dispossessed like the former, but moreover they suffered a defamatory situation, parallel to the grievances they had caused: they were treated like draft animals. The count “los hizo uncir con bueyes, y arar y pacer hierbas, y beber agua de las charcas, y comer paja en el pesebre” (had them yoked like oxen and plough and graze grasses, and drink water from puddles, and eat straw in the manger). In other words, they were forced to do work that was in the antipodes of their “military” condition, and even beyond the service of “human” work that many peasants rendered periodically to their lords under the name of sernas, operas or geras; it is difficult to decide if this was merely a symbolic representation, or if this oppressum, cepit clamare et dicere regi: “Domine mi rex, ego sum reus in te et culpabilis. Deprecor te per Deum, qui te in omnibus adiubat, ne dimittas me nec uxorem meam nec filios meos in manus comitis Roderici, sed tu accipe de me tuam uindictam secundum tuam misericordiam”. Hoc audita, rex, sicut solitus erat, misericordia motus est et fecit eum uenire ad se et Pelagium Froyle, qui erat cum eo, et misit eos in tentoria sua. Post paucos uero dies iussit eos liberos abire. Sed Petrus Didaci huc et illuc sine rege et benefactore deuenit in magna egritudine et mortuus est pauper et miser. 41. The reasoning is based on a recognised data: the personal success of the nobles depended to a good extent on the royal mercedes and honores (or more in general, of generous benefactores). This was influenced by the successor customs of the nobility; their cognate practices fragmented their legacy with each generational change (Martínez, Pascual. “Reyes y nobles en León (ca. 860-1160)”, Monarquía y sociedad en el reino de León de Alfonso III a Alfonso VII, José María Fernández, coord. León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación San Isidoro 2007: I, 149-200. Other sources and the Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris itself qualify the fate of Pedro Díaz’s kin. The magnate had requested the king to extend his protection to his wife and chidren, in other words, to María Ordoñez and the nine offspring from their marriage. Pedro Díaz lived until the mid 1130s, and his descendants recomposed the family status. What we know leads us to reflect on this. One of his daughters, Guntrodo, had concubinal relations with Alfonso VII, from which the Princess-Queen Urraca la Asturiana was born. Her father, the king, betrothed her to his ally King García Ramírez of Pamplona; after being widowed, she became the Lady of Asturias —maintaining the title of “queen”. Two of Pedro Díaz’s other sons, Diego Pérez Abregón and Gonzalo Pérez Gembelín, were among the most important nobles in this region; the former began the powerful lineage of Álvarez de las Asturias. Perhaps the price of royal mercy was to hand over one of the maidens of the defeated kin, which ultimately helped him to recuperate a certain protagonism (Torres Sevilla-Quiñones de León, Margarita. Linajes nobiliarios de León y Castilla (Siglos IX-XIII). Valladolid: Junta de Castilla y Leon, Consejeria de Educacion y Cultura 1999: 374-394).

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of

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“animal” service lasted. One must not ignore that, in short, the echoes of the event forced the submission of Coyanza, another nearby rebel focus.42 The range of abuse that Pedro Díaz’s men suffered suggest that the victor made the most of his victory. The defeated paid a ransom that meant renouncing all their material resources and temporarily ceding their capacity to make war. It also shows humiliation as a cultural code that differentiated between degrees of blame and left the door open for pardon. However, one perceives especially that the attitudes of humiliating, marginalising and exploiting the defeated took precedence over the most elemental, rapid and rigorous course: the violent death of the rebel (traitor) as an exercise of revenge and justice. It is perceptible that this was also the least profitable and pedagogical path. Among other things, this was because its consequences hindered future agreements between those who perceived allegiances, alliances and rebellions as political practices. This was very different from the perspectives of a chronicler, as (formally) seduced by the providential messages as tied by his duties as a palace writer.

42. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris...: 160: Comes uero Rodericus, acceptis aliis militibus, alios misit in uinculis, donec redderent uniuersa bona sua, alios fecit sibi seruire multis diebus sine censu, sed illos, qui blasphemabant eum, fecit iungere cum bobus et arare et pascere herbas et bibere aquas in iacubus et comedere paleas in presepio et, expoliatis eis ex omnibus divitiis, permisit eos abire captiuos et miseros. Sed illi, qui erant in Coiancam post Semenum Enneci, hoc uidentes dederunt uillam et castellum regi.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 125-144 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.05 RHYTHMS IN THE PROCESS OF DRAWING UP CRUSADING PROPOSALS IN THE PENINSULA

Amancio Isla Universitat Rovira i Virgili Spain

Date of receipt: 14th of October, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 11st of February, 2015

Abstract

This study presents some of the traits of the new Christian proposals for the legitimation of the war against the Muslims. These elements appeared somewhat earlier in the kingdom of Aragon than in León. This promptness is linked not only with a greater opening to European influences, but also to the need to attract foreign contingents for the conquest. Meanwhile, the Leonese kingdom had assembled a theory of legitimation, based on its claims to links to the Visigoth monarchy, so that it resorted to a greater extent to the crusading register when difficulties arose in the epoch of Alfonso VI, especially from 1086 on.

Keywords

Crusade, Medieval war, Kingdom of Aragon, Kingdom of Leon, 11th and 12th centuries.

Capitalia verba

Cruciata, Bellum Medievale, Regnum Aragonum, Regnum Legionis, Saecula XI et XII.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 145-161 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.06 145 146 Amancio Isla

I have twin aims here. On one hand, I wish to analyse the development of the perception of medieval war in the Iberian Peninsula, so as to discuss and, as far as possible, highlight the possible transformations in the ideological components and open new paths to approach the phenomenon in the setting of the categories of crusade. In a way, this consists of highlighting and explaining some modifications in the discourse about war that appeared in the contemporary sources in the Peninsula, and examining whether the elements in this are compatible with the historiographic concept of crusade. Together with this general target, I aim to analyse the reasons for the differences in the chronology of these proposals between Hispanic regna. This means studying why they appeared and developed in some settings, while they were more marginal in others as I believe that both chronology and order varied, and did not function in the same way in León as in Aragon.1 The concept of crusade is the subject of a thoroughgoing historiographic debate, in which some historians have established a series of conditions sine qua non, and have listed a series of requirements that must be met before a conflict can be properly categorised as a crusade.2 Attempts have been made to conduct a study almost of the genome of the crusade, attempting to determine what defines this reality in the eyes of these historians today. The intention, presumably, is to appraise the concept and determine the pertinence of certain actions, in other words, to establish what historical wars were or were not crusades. The question is relevant, as it puts a limit to an excessive use of this characterisation. However, I fear that the abundance in the casuistic and the exuberance of the conditions could lead us to have to amend the page for those who lived in the medieval period and convince them that they did not really embark on a crusade. Moreover, some authors have forgotten what the crusade has as a discourse, not very rigid in structure, a more moldable product and affected by the temporary circumstances, modulable and, naturally, with varied aims, notable among which were to legitimate violence and conquest was perhaps delayed.

1. This study has benefitted from a research Project from the Ministry of Science and Innovation of the Government of Spain (HAR2009-13225). 2. Flori, Jean. “La formation des concepts de guerre sainte et de croisade aux XIe et XIIe siècles: prédication papale et motivations chevaleresques”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte: guerre, idéologie et religion dans l’espace méditerranéen latin (XIe-XIIIe siècle), Daniel Baloup, Philippe Jaosserand, eds. Toulouse: CNRS-Université de Toulouse II-Le Mirail, 2006: 133-157. One can see other works by the same author, such as La guerra santa. La formación de la idea de cruzada en el Occidente cristiano. Granada: Trotta, 2003. Also Bachrach, David. Religion and the Conduct of War. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2003: 108 and following, reviews the development of the religious content in war in the first part of the Middle Ages, assessing the novelties in the crusading dynamic. A restrictive reflection on the Hispanic case appears in Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality in the Holy Land and Iberia,­ c. 1095-c. 1187. Woodbridge-Rochester: Boydell, 2008: 120 and following. Also: García-Guijarro, Luis. “¿Cruzadas antes de la primera cruzada? La Iglesia y la guerra santa, siglos IX-XI”, García Sánchez III “el de Nájera” un rey y un reino en la Europa del siglo XI: XV semana de estudios medievales. Najera: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2005: 290 and following. The debate between Alexander Bronisch (Reconquista y guerra santa. La concepción de la guerra en la España cristiana desde los visigodos hasta comienzos del siglo XII. Granada: Universidad de Granada, 2006) and Patrick Henriet (“L’idéologie de guerre sainte dans le Haut Moyen Âge hispanique”. Francia, 29/1 (2001): 171-220) merits an analysis in itself. As we shall see, I myself believe that there is a crescendo derived from the necessities for legitimation, which does not imply a lineal evolution.

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My analysis focuses mainly on the period from the latter decades of the 11th century through to the early 12th century. An analysis of the documentation from this period shows a certain divergence, that I believe to be to an extent relevant, between the warlike perceptions we can find in the western territories of the Peninsula and those from Navarrese and Aragonese lands. It is evident that military operations, like the one against Barbastro in 1064, could have a fundamental impact on the development of the perceptions of war. The Barbastro campaign included knights from France and Burgundy and also the very strong Normans.3 The chronicler Amado de Montecassino presents the expedition as a Christian action designed to oblige la chevalerie de li Sarrazin to submit and some of the traits of these expeditions are found in his narrative, such as the request for divine aid and thanksgiving after the victory, which are also found in other military operations apart from the crusade. It is probable that this action was promoted from Rome, if, as it seems, Alexander II’s 1063 bull is connected with this expedition.4 In any case, the chronicle of Saint-Maixent confirms this religious footing for a military mobilisation for the Christian nomen.5 It is true that shortly before these years, we find some Aragonese charters that seems to indicate a certain movement. In 1057, a document refers to the Christians and the conquests they have suffered at the hands of the Muslims, possibly at a moment when the hostilities that led to Pueyo de Bolea being handed over had already broken out.6 All these dynamics could have had antecedents in the previous decade and

3. So says the chronicler Amado de Montecassino, who wrote this work between 1078 and 1086, although we have a French translation from the early 14th century (Ystoire de li Normant, I, 5; ed. Vincenzo de Bartholomeis, Storia de’Normanni. Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1935: 13). On the subject: Ferreiro, Alberto. “The Siege of Barbastro 1064-65: A reassessment”. Journal of Medieval History, 9 (1983): 129-144. More recently, Sénac, Philippe. “Un château en Espagne. Notes sur la prise de Barbastro”, Liber Largitorius, eds. Dominique Barthélémy, José María Martín. Genoa: Droz, 2003: 545-562. There is a certain debate about the “crusading” relevance of the campaign. An analysis of this expedition and its interpretation Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal en el Noroeste de la Península a mediados del siglo XI: Barbastro, 1064”, La guerra, la frontera y la convivencia. XI Congreso de estudios medievales. Leon: Fundación Sánchez Albornoz, 2009: 189-218. A useful review of the historiography of crusading in Ayala, Carlos de. “Definición de cruzada: estado de la cuestión”.Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 216-242. 4. “Epistola”, 82 (Epistolae pontificum Romanorum, ed. Samuel Loewenfeld. Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 43). We can relate this letter to the one the Pope sent to an episcopal group, perhaps more Gallic than Hispanic, warning against the anti-Jewish behaviour of those qui contra Sarracenos in Hispaniam proficiscebantur (“Epistola”, 101, Patrologia Cursus completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1884: CXLVI, col. 1386-87; Jaffé, Regesta pontificum Romanorum, ed. Philipp Jaffé, Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 3485). In turn, this should be related to one to Wifred of Narbonne, which seems to be on the same subject (“Epistola”, 83, ed. Loewenfeld, “Epistolae”...: 43). 5. Chronica Sancti Maxentii Pictavensis, 1062 (Chroniques des Églises d’Anjou, eds. Paul Marchegay, Émile Mabille. Paris: Mme. Ve J. Renouard, 1869: 403). The text was concluded in 1141, although a good part of the work may have already been finished in 1126 (Halphen, Louis. “Note sur la Chronique de Saint Maixent”. Bibliothèque de l’École des chartes, 69 (1908): 410-411). 6. A document from 1057 refers to the domain of the christiani kings or of the king of the pagani and refers to King Sancho III to describe him as nos christiani a castle de manibus sarraçenorum... ad christianis eum reddimus (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón (1035-1064). Saragossa: Diputación Provincial de Zaragoza, 2013: 483-484 (doc. No. 120); Ubieto, Antonio. Cartulario de San Juan de la Peña. Valencia: Gráficas Bautista, 1963: II: 163-166 (doc. No. 144). The 1058 concession to Sancho de Puibolea in: Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática...: 490-491 (doc. No. 126).

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developments affecting the Navarrese kingdom that began in the context of the Battle of Tafalla7 and that coincided with the fighting, another example of which was the conquest of Calahorra. This is not the traditional language used in the Peninsula to refer to military activities against the Andalusians. It must be imagined that some of these influences came from abroad, through the presence of both churchmen and laymen,8 including the queens who married the Aragonese kings of those years, and their entourages.9 Monasteries and churches from beyond the Pyrenees had some role in the Aragonese kingdom. This was the case of Thomières, where King Sancho sent Prince Ramiro in 1093, or La Sauve-Majeure, which had Arguilaré from 1063.10 On the other hand, ecclesiastical centres and some of the kingdom’s castles had been donated to northern religious institutions. We also have evidence of the presence of clergy from north of the Pyrenees at various times. They left their mark on the charters of foundation, as in the dedication of the church of San Juan de la Peña in 1094.11 The travels, especially royal journeys, could have tightened links with various European areas: García of Nájera, perhaps in 1035, and, possibly, Sancho Ramírez visited Rome. This is testified to in the Pseudo-Silense and a document by the Aragonese king dated 1068.12 They corresponded to trips by papal legates. Prince Sancho also seems to have made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1092.13

7. Laliena, Carlos; Sénac, Philippe. Musulmans et chrétiens dans le Haut Moyen Âge: aux origines de la reconquête aragonaise. Paris: Minerve, 1991: 121. Also, Laliena, Carlos. La formación del Estado feudal. Aragón y Navarra en la época de Pedro I. Huesca: Diputación Provincial de Huesca, 1996: 61. 8. To cite two varied examples, Andrew of France (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez. Saragossa: Real Sociedad Económica Aragonesa de Amigos del País, 1993: 69-70 (doc. No. 60); 88-89 (doc. No. 85) or Rembald of Montepestler, who had at least a shop in Jaca (Salarrullana, José. Documentos correspondientes al reinado de Sancio Ramireç. Saragossa: Tipografía Escar, 1907: 175-177 (doc. No. 45). 9. Felicia of Roucy, wife of King Sancho Ramírez (about her, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra. Saragossa: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1951: 27 and following); moreover, Pedro wives: Agnes of Aquitaine and, although of uncertain non-Hispanic origin, Berta. 10. A. 1093, Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 148-149 (doc. No. 144). In 1084, Sancho Ramírez had donated the mosques of Ejea to Santa María de Sauve-Majeure (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 80 (doc. No. 73) and in 1088, confirmed these donations to Abbot Grimaldo (Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 105 (doc. No. 105). In 1088, the abbot of Sauve-Majeure promised to take in a pauper every year and pray for the Aragonese king (Martene, Edmond. Thesaurus novus. Paris: Sumptibus F. Delaulne, 1717: col. 247). The document of Arguilaré in Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón...: 563-565 (doc. No. 184). 11. Where the bishops Amato of Burdeos and Godofredo of Magalona and the abbots Frotardo of Thomières, Aimerico or Raimundo of San Salvador de Leger appear (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 227-228 (doc. No. 16). With a degree of prudence, we can also consider the large number of non-Hispanic names that appear in the documents. 12. In mid February 1068, Sancho claimed to be en-route to Rome (pergebam ad Romam), although we do not know if he arrived there (Libro de los Santos Voto y Félix, Biblioteca Universitaria de Zaragoza, M-420, fol. 11 v; it was published by Salarrullana, José. Documentos correspondientes al reinado de Sancio Ramireç...: 7-8 (doc. No. 3). Kehr’s opinion about this journey and its results has gained a following, Paul. “El Papado y los reinos de Navarra y Aragón hasta mediados del siglo XII”, Estudios de Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón. Saragossa: E. Berdejo Casanal, 1946: II, 94 and following. 13. In 1092, the comes Sancho, the monarch’s half-brother, referred to this desire: ego uolente pergere in uiam sepulchri Domini... (Biblioteca Universitaria de Zaragoza. Libro de los privilegios. M-423/517, f.1r).

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On his return, he and his entourage might have had perspectives they had assimilated far from their homeland.14 What I want to point out is the greater development of these perceptions that highlight how the conflict with the Andalusians in the Aragonese kingdom emphasises the religious aspect earlier, so that fine-tuned formulations should be found relatively early, and these acquired notable precision and wealth in a few decades. A deed from Saint-Victor in Marseilles, which contains the donation of Barbastro by Bishop Poncio in 1101, shows the rise of this development, the prelate explaining that his see had recently been seized from the power and hands of the pagans. In fact, it states that it had been liberata, thanks to the sword of King Peter I. The letter was confirmed by the archbishop of Arles and, presumably, at the moment of the concession, some monks from Saint-Victor in Marseilles, the monastery that received the donation, would have been present.15 The document presents various elements, the war against the Muslims, the aim of liberating cities and churches and it also shows the importance of cross-Pyrenean links, emphasising these in the expression of the crusading ideology. Our impression is that a good part of these arguments were on the rise in the kingdom in the mid 11th century. In any case, from the mid 11th century on, there is documentation that refers to the pagani and texts that emphasise the religious opposition.16 The above-mentioned document from 1057 and other later ones indicate a period of domination by these pagani over the Christians. Laliena has commented on the development of García Sánchez’s anti-Muslim sentiment, which flourished after his visit to Rome in 1035.17 This mood would perhaps show in a clause in his wife’s dowry, dated in 1040, as it refers to possible divine concessions in lands held by the Muslims,18 being an explicit first show of the endeavour that culminated in the battle of Tafalla, very probably in 1043.19 Shortly after, Calahorra was conquered from the pagani (1045) by royal

14. A document from San Juan de la Peña mentions King Peter taking up the cross to go to Jerusalem (it is transcribed by Ubieto, Antonio. Colección diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra: 113 (doc. No. 6). Íñigo López and his wife had donated property to the abbot of San Juan de la Peña in 1061 because they wished to go to Rome, ut iremus Romam (Ubieto, Antonio. Cartulario de san Juan de la Peña...: II, 197-198 (doc. No. 158). 15. Ubieto, Antonio. Colección diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 115 (doc. No. 9). 16. Regarding the use of the term paganus to refer to the Muslims, one should recall the precedent in the letter by Oliba of Vic to Sancho III, which also includes the idea of deletio of these enemies and that of restitutio (Diplomatari i escrits literaris de l’abat i bisbe Oliba, ed. Emili Junyent. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 1992: 327-331 (doc. No. 16, and also the following)). The use of pagani or terra paganorum to refer to the Andalusains or al-Andalus is not exceptional. 17. Laliena, Carlos. La formación del Estado feudal...: 60 and following. 18. de partibus terre hismaeitarum aut castra aut villas (Rodríguez, Idelfonso. Colección diplomática medieval de La Rioja (923-1225). Logroño: Diputación Provincial de la Rioja, 1976: II, 24-26 (doc. No. 3). 19. The well-known document from August 1043 refers to a horse that had belonged to Ramiro I and was lost in the fight for Tafalla. I think this is the meaning of the gift received by the King Sancho Garcia from Sanchez Fortuñones (Martín Duque, Ángel. Documentación medieval de Leire (siglos XI a XII). Pamplona: Diputación Foral de Navarra, 1983: 64-65 (doc. No. 33). For this, see Martín Duque, Ángel. “Don García Sánchez III ’el de Nájera’: Biografía de un reinado”, García Sánchez III “el de Nájera” un rey y un reino en la Europa del siglo XI: XV semana de estudios medievales. Najera: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2005: 30. Ubieto proposes a very early date, around 1038, so much so that it makes the gift of a horse more improbable

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action.20 The novelty of this was not the armed struggle, that we can see in other moments in the past, but rather the way it was justified in the context of religious war. Nor were these developments a novelty, but rather they reveal increasingly narrow ways of expressing the relation between the violent action of the Christians and the religious condition of the Muslims and the perception that was held of this. We do not think that these Aragonese campaigns should be labelled crusades, a question perhaps secondary in relation to what interests us most, namely the slow development of a discourse that explained, justified and promoted this armed activity. This discourse did not appear out of nowhere, but rather had to find its place in societies accustomed to fighting the Andalusians and that gradually absorbed various proposals, each at its own rhythm. This Muslim presence in the Peninsula was explained along the lines of Christian providentialism and with the sequence of sin, punishment and pardon. Some Aragonese documents explicitly show the royal or official reading of these events. It was the sins of the kings that brought on the invasion and the dislocation of a framework that was originally considered good.21 No contemporary texts with this argumentation are found in the Leonese kingdom. However, it does abound in the forgeries, where, for example, we can find references to the Sarracenorum persecutio22 and the situation of domain in manibus impiorum23 or even the situation of churches and sees destructae a paganis.24 These reconstructions reveal how this discourse was incorporated in the medium term and how it was considered to contradict the earlier one. In fact, the discourse was timeless and appropriate for any chronology. In the face of the Muslim invasion, what had to be done was a labour of restoration. This was understood in various ways, but the use of the verb

(Ubieto, Antonio. Los orígenes de los reinos de Castilla y Aragón. Saragossa: Universidad de Zaragoza, 1991: 48 and following). See also, Pérez de Ciriza, Fortún. “Monjes y obispos: La Iglesia en el reinado de García Sánchez III el de Nájera”, XV Semana de Estudios Medievales. Najera: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2005: 197- 200 (doc. No. 15). 20. In this document, García Sánchez III (a pseudo-original) claims to have taken de manibus paganorum and to have “restored” iuri christianorum (Rodríguez de Lama, Idelfonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 30-32 (doc. No. 6). The document can be interpolated (Pérez de Ciriza, Fortún. “Monjes y obispos...”: 231 (doc. No. 20), although not clearly in this part: Rodríguez de Lama, Ildefonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja: 33-34 (doc. No. 7) —perhaps a more reworked script— it is formulated partially differently, to make it more important: pagana impietate uiolentiaque, aliquatenus repressa, recuperare aliquatenus iam cepimus atque possidere... 21. In 1063, Ramiro I stated that instigante diabolo atque peccata parentum antiquorum [he does not strictly say his] inuase sunt atque subuerse uniuersa cenobia nec non et ecclesie a Dei incultoribus. Ob quam rem Deo auxiliante illarum restaurationem uoluntarie cupientes agi... (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón...: 563-564 (doc. No. 184). Obviously these are the registers that arose under the model of biblical kings, whose sins affected all their people. 22. Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada. Madrid: Antonio Marín, 1764: XVIII ap. IV and V, 312-315, supposedly a document by Alfonso III from 867 which refers to the founding of Mondoñedo. 23. Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada. Madrid: Antonio Marín, 1765: XIX, 350. 24. A supposed endowment by Alfonso II to Lugo in 832 (Risco, Manuel. España Sagrada, XL, Madrid, Marín, 1796: XL, 371); a document dated 904 refers to a church disrupta a paganis (Sáez, Emilio. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, I (775-952). Leon: Centro de estudios “San Isidoro”, 1987: 28-29 (doc. No. 17).

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restaurare emphasised the first constructive meaning.25 Moreover, there was a more anthropological and Christian version, in the sense that restoring meant recovering the flawless human condition from before the sin, thanks to Christ’s sacrifice.26 The haste to restore and the sense of the term changed over time, most notably in the chronology that concerns us here. In 1035, when Vermudo III endowed the see of Palencia, he stated his desire to restaurare the see and granted it financial powers so the bishop and all the ordo clericorum prayed to God for him.27 No other sense was developed, nor found in the confirmation of charters by Ferdinand and Sancha in 1042.28 In the reign of Ferdinand, there were warnings that to restore implied the recovery of the situation of the Visigoth period, in the sense that restoring sees meant recovering the past, the old scheme of Visigoth episcopates.29 Restoration was understood from the Gothistic perspectives, in the idea of returning to the kingdom of a better past. The general perception of endowing in all senses was not forgotten and thus, in 1074, Bishop Pelayo thought that restoring his see required endowing it with the appropriate liturgical equipment, with vestments and books.30 The idea of restoration continued evolving for decades and, although in the Leonese kingdom, the term continued to refer to the buildings and their resources, a new meaning developed with links to a mythologised past and, somewhat later, this would incorporate new elements, as in 1089, when Alfonso VI promoted the see of Santa María in Toledo and mentioned how it had been restaurata to the faith.31

25. We conserve sentences like domus ecclesiae restaurare that appear in documents of Cardeña from the mid 10th century. The activity was an obligation for the Christian king as indicated in the pseudo-Silense, who stated that, after his victorious revolt against the Muslims, King Pelayo wished to restaurare the churches and their ornamenta, in an idea that meant their physical renovation (Pérez de Urbel, Justo; Ruiz, Atilano. Historia Silense. Madrid: Centro Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1959: 25, 136). 26. This concept could be applied in a legal sense, with the meaning of recovering a primal freedom, after having living in slavery. This is seen in a document from Sobrado from 930 (Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbos del monasterio de Sobrado de los Monjes. Madrid: Dirección General del Patrimonio Artístico y Cultural-Archivo Histórico Nacional, 1976: I, 86-87 (doc. No. 52) or in another, which claims to be from 912, which contrasts the condition of restored freedom with the earlier servile state (Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A de la catedral de Santiago de Compostela. León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1997: 100- 102 (doc. No. 24). For the modifications of this and other similar terms, see: Constable, Giles. “Renewal and Reform in Religious Life. Concepts and Realities”, Renaissance and Renewal in the Twelfth Century. Cambridge (Mass.): Harvard University Press, 1982, 37-67. 27. Núñez Contreras, “Colección diplomática de Vermudo III, rey de León”. Historia, instituciones, documentos, 4 (1977): 484-487 (doc. No. 18). 28. Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I (1037-1065)”. Archivos Leoneses, 40 (1986): 73-74 (doc. No. 16). Another confirmation is among the documents of the restauration of Oca, in 1075, but, at least, there are some problems of rehability in these documents. 29. This was during the year 1046; Cavero Gregoria; Martín, Encarnación. Colección documental de la catedral de Astorga, I (646-1126). Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1999: 256-259 (doc. No. 306). 30. Ruiz Asencio, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109). León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1990: 450-452 (doc. No. 1193). These questions have been dealt with in Isla, Amancio. Memoria, culto y monarquia hispánica entre los siglos X y XII. Jaen: Universidad de Jaén, 2007: 104 and following. 31. Año 1089; Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio. II Colección diplomática. Leon: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1998: 264-266 (doc. No. 101).

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Thus, the process seems to have defined a concept of restoration in line with the new times, with emphasis on the idea of religious conflict and converting places of Islamic worship into Christian churches. In the Aragonese kingdom, documents from the second half of the 11th century show the development of the idea of the restauratio of some ecclesiastical centres that had been destroyed a Dei incultoribus. In 1063, the restoration naturally had the full constructive sense and the restoring of rights, but was also linked closely to the activity of those infidels who had broken a trajectory. The foundation that Ramiro I promoted in Arguilaré does not resemble the recovery of a centre, but rather the Christian restoration of a territory. In 1101, Peter I recalled the task of his predecessors in restaurandis, referring to the recovery of episcopal sees and other religious centres with specific mention of the earlier Muslim conquest, which had led to the almost complete destruction of the Christianitas.32 Another interesting term is used in the writings from these origins. In the early years of the 12th century, it was relatively frequent to understand the process of seizing the new territories as restitution, in other words, as an act of justice with which the asset returned to its rightful owner. In 1102, on referring to the taking of Barbastro, of what stood out was this as a process of returning these cities to Christendom.33 On considering the conquest of Calasanz, the same coordinates were highlighted as on other occasions, and these would appear to confirm that the conquest was linked to a legitimate change of religion, which is why it is common for these terms to appear more frequently in the context of documents related to ecclesiastical dedications.34 In contrast, this concept does not appear in the western territories. In the 1088 bull by Urban II, however, the idea of the restitution of the archbishopric of Toledo appears, in the sense of restoring or recovering a prior situation that had been lost. The lines of Papal understanding are indicated in the text: an idealised, obviously Christian, prior situation, sins that triggered the Sarracen conquest and a contemporary restitution that implied a conquest and a return to the primitive situation. All this is understood as a restitutio and also a liberatio.35 It is interesting to compare the discourse drawn up in the western territories with the one in Navarre and Aragon. The perception we obtain from the Leonese sources has other overtones. It is not that they were unaware of the phenomenon

32. The ecclesiastical centres... peccata parentum antiquorum inuase sunt atque subuerse (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón...: 563-565 (doc. No. 184); christianitatem in Ispania magna ex parte deleta... ad pristinum statum suam sanctam ecclesiam reintegravit (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 345-347 (doc. No. 96). 33. ut ipse Deus per meritum ipsius, urbes ipsas sancte restituet christianitati (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 374-378 (doc. No. 117). 34. [The castrum of Calasanz] restitutum est sancte christianitati, dedicavit ibi ecclesiam (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 301-301 (doc. No. 128). The castelli that God dignatus est restituere suo sancto nomine et sue christianitati in terra de Osca (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 396-397 (doc. No. 132). 35. a saracenis­ eadem civitas capta et ad nihilum christianae religionis illic libertas redacta est,... christianorum iuribus Toletana civitas est restituta (Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia hasta Inocencio III (965-1216). Rome: Instituto Español de Estudios Eclesiásticos, 1955: 43 and following (“Epistola” 27);... quod de sarrace­norum iure Toletana est ecclesia liberata (Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia...: 39 and following (“Epistola” 24).

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of the Muslim presence and its effects, but that the interpretation emphasised other considerations, basically the need to recover the state predating the conquest. This appears when the Muslims are mentioned, but also other invaders, for example the pagan Normans. In 1024, when Tui was being restored, the letter from King Alfonso V mentions what they understood as the perfect situation: Antiquorum etenim relatione cognoscimus, omnem Hispaniam a Christianis esse possessam, et unamquamque provinciam ecclesiis, sedibus et episcopis perornatam. It was sins that interrupted this state and led to the arrival of the Normans and their devastating effects on the see. Then a violent Chrsitian reaction was provoked and the invaders were expelled.36 However, despite the marked opposition of the Christians to those, the Normans, who were not, and the explicit reference to violence, these elements do not come close enough together, although it is obvious that this war was of a religious nature. Ferdinand I and Sancha sustained in a Leonese endowment that it was better to restore than to build. What they wanted to emphasise was that, rather than building new churches, it was better to recuperate assets, temples and ecclesiastical hierarchies: this is the real sense of the restauratio even in mid century.37 The expressed concern of the drafters of this documentation was to press ahead with the restoration, a process understood in this sense as a return to the past, which implied an adequate ecclesiastical structure in all senses. Thus, when praising the reign of the late Alfonso V in 1046, emphasis was placed on his struggle against the Muslims, naturally very explicitly, and the extension and endowment of churches.38 For those who ruled later, restoration meant rebuilding churches in their heritage and appointing bishops.39 It is notable that this appreciation included dealing with the effects of other invasiones, not precisely of the Muslims. On granting the monastery of Sahagún a scriptum restauracionis, the monarchs referred to repairing or returning the monastery to its primaeval state prior to the depredations of the kingdom’s aristocrats.40 In fact, the political situation in the kingdom of León further reinforced this aspect. At various moments, I have emphasised this way of presenting the recent past, where the veritas was questionable by due the aristocratic predations that took advantage of the regencies and monarchic weakness. Around mid century, the Leonese perception, referring to the situation of difficulties, noted those that took place during Alfonso

36. multas quidem ipsorum inimicorum cervices fregimus, et de terra nostra ejecimus... (Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada. Madrid: Antonio Marín, 1765: XIX, 391). The document explains that, given its state of postration, the see of Tui was merged with Santiago. The text Antiquorum relatione reappears in a forgery dated from 915 (España Sagrada...: XIX, 349). It seems to be from the preface of the De uiris illustribus by Ildefonso (Gil, Juan. “Notas críticas a autores medievales hispanos”. Habis, 14 (1983): 70). 37. intelleximus quia melius est qui restaurat quam qui hedificat (7 January 1043; Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109): IV, 170-172 (doc. No. 1007). 38. gentem muzleimitarum detruncauit et ecclesias ampliauit et valde de omnibus bonis suis ditauit (28 June 1046, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 104-107 (doc. No. 31). 39. fecimus hordinare per illas sedes episcopos ad restaurandum eclesias et recreandum fidei christianae (28 June 1046), See: Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 104-107 (doc. No. 31). Also: et fecimus... per illas sedes ordinare episcopos... (7 January 1043; Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109)...: IV, 170-172 (doc. No. 1007). 40. November, 1049, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 123-124 (doc. No. 40).

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V’s minority and those that came after, so that the tempus persecutionis was not so much the Muslim oppression, but more the civil wars and disorder that led to notable difficulties, especially for the ecclesiastic patrimony.41 In 1074, King Sancho of Aragón referred to his request for prayers for the stability of the kingdom and for victories from God contra inimicos nominis Christiani.42 The monarch was always aware of the beneficia received, obviously not only spiritual, but also material. The Aragonese victories meant an expansion of the kingdom.43 There were frequent references to the royal pretensions that in the future or already in the present to God’s help in this task of expanding the kingdom. It was not infrequent for mention to be made in royal circles of the hope that the divinity would grant the conquest of a new enclave or referring to this celestial decision after the conquest had taken place.44 However, this was explained as a divine concession ad christianos.45 As shown above, these occupations were understood as religious restitution and this is reflected in the documents. In the same vein, there was an insistence on the conversion of the mosques into churches. Obviously, there was an economic component to this, given that, among the assets granted by the kings, even before the effective conquest, nameless mosques appear on a scale of categories related to their economic endowment for the building of churches for the ecclesiastic institution they have been conferred to, with the idea that these mosques were linked to the assets going beyond those strictly related to a place of worship, including properties that generate incomes, houses or even ovens. When Sancho Ramírez endowed La Sauve-Majeure, he explained his desire for an early conquest quando Deus... dederit ipsas villas sanctae christianitati, emphasising the target of converting the mosques into churches.46 This conquest was understood as liberation. The existence of the subjugated population was of less interest; the rights underlined were God’s and the saints’ or even, more specifically, those of their temples. What justified the Christian actions was the liberation of churches and lands. The restitution and restoration of the Christianitas was that of the churches, and in function of this, mosques had to be replaced by

41. 7 January 1043; Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109)...: IV, 170-172 (doc 1007). For the conflicts with the aristocracy, see Isla, Amancio.Realezas hispánicas del año mil. Sada: Edicios do Castro, 1998: 62 and following and 103 and following. 42. Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 44-45 (doc. No. 30). 43. Sancho understood that there would be a moment in his reign or that of his successors when his objectives would be fulfilled,quando Deus ampliauerit eis regnum (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 148-149 (doc. No. 144) of 1093). 44. die quod Deus omnipotens donavit nobis Monteson (dated from 1090). Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I: 219-220 (doc. No. 9) or, very explicit in his thanksgiving, regnante... gratias Deo altissimo in Monteson (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección diplomática de Pedro I...: 220-221 (doc. No. 10) (January 1092). 45. A letter was written in May 1081 in Castro Muniones quando Deus dedit illum ad christianos (Lacarra, José Maria. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista y repoblación del valle del Ebro. Saragossa: Anubar, 1982: 13-14 (doc. No. 4); also Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 64-65 (doc. No. 55). In 1089, the Aragonese king hoped for divine assistance for Estadilla to pass in manus christianorum (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 216-217 doc. No. 6). 46. [1091] Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 23-24 (doc. No. 12).

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Christian temples. It was seen as normal that a church had to be built on the site where a mosque had stood.47 We know that there was a certain demand for the mosques in conquered cities, causing some tension between religious institutions, as in the case of the mosque in Huesca for use as the site of the episcopal see or another church.48 The bishop wanted to have miskidam pro sedem, and obtained it by imposing a criterion that may seem very firm. The state of the great mosque in Huesca, theexcellentior , was highly praised as the site for the cathedral. On different occasions, Peter bequeathed other mosques for the construction of such churches, such as the one ceded in Leire for the church of San Salvador49 or the one he promised to Conques in Barbastro, ad construendum ibi monasterium.50 The lines written by Bishop Pedro of Saragossa that precede the letter by Gelasius II and were aimed at those who were beseiging Saragossa in 1118 includes many of these elements. It states that the endeavour depended on divine clemency, the prayers of the clergy and the audaciousness of the fortes viri, in other words, the aristocrats, that its target was to conquer Saragossa for the Christians and liberate the church of Santa María that was held by the perfidi sarraceni.51 This dynamic must be linked to a memory that highlighted how the Muslims seized the Christian churches.52 The Muslim conquest was understood as an event, relatively short in time, whose main effect was the elimination of bishoprics, the destruction of monasteries and the profaning of churches. As early as 1044, García de Nájera, revealed the extent to which his offensive action was linked to the understanding of the past. He knew there was a state of desolation of the Christian sacred places, a situation he saw as historical, the result of the violent actions a barbaris nationibus.53 There had been an occupatio and even more, a destructio of these Christian temples. What his campaigns achieved was the restitutio or recuperatio of these ecclesiastical centres into the ius christianorum.54

47. King Sancho Ramírez granted Sauve-Majeure utriusque ville mischitas ad ecclesias ibi faciendas in Ejea and Pradilla ([1091], Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 23-24 (doc. No. 12). At the end of the period under study here, when Saragossa was conquered, there were many calls for mosques to be converted into churches (Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 70-71 (doc. No. 56). 48. December 1096 and 5 April 1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 241-243, (doc. No. 24) and 251-253 (doc. No. 30). Those of Montearagón kept the chaplaincy of the Zuda and Thomières with illam ecclesiam antiquam sancti Petri (doc. No. 24). 49. [November-]1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 266-268, doc. No. 40. 50. [April 1099], Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 302, doc. No. 64. 51. 10 December 1118, Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 67-69 (doc. No. 54). Gelasius’ letter deals with aspects of the crusade which we will not consider for now (Jaffé, Philipp. Regesta pontificum Romanorum. Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 665; see Kehr, Paul. “El Papado y los reinos de Navarra y Aragón hasta mediados del siglo XII”, Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón. Saragossa: E. Berdejo Casanal, 1946: II, 147 and following. 52. atque ubi Dominici corporis et sanguinis celebrata fuerit sacramenta, nefanda demonum spurcissimique Mahomat colabantur figmenta (5 April 1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 251-253, doc. No. 30). 53. Rodríguez de Lama, Ildefonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 27-29, (doc. No. 4), dated 2nd November 1044. 54. 30 April 1045, Rodríguez de Lama, Ildefonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 30-32 (doc. No. 6).

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It is interesting that these diplomas explain that it was the sins of the ancestors of King García that led to the loss of the kingdom. Thus, the feeling among the Navarese monarchy that they were descended from the Visigoth royalty is perceptible. This is not then an invention of the Pseudo-Silense, but rather a claim established previously,55 at least in these lands and perhaps reinforced by the ideologists of the times of Sancho the Great. Obviously, this change was related to divine mercy, finally pitying the Christian hardships. Almost by definition, this task required God’s benevolence. In other words, carrying it out involved fulfilling a divine plan. This justified the action of the Navarese and Aragonese kings, who proclaimed their role as Christians, on their military campaigns. It is also relevant that these actions were understood as a gift from God. The phraseology of the time insisted that God gave such and such an enclave to the monarch. This statement that was often used to highlight the day on which the event occurred, but also for the hope that such an event would occur. The reference should not only be understood in its sense of awarding victory and conquest, in other words, as fulfilling the divine will; there was also a significant financial aspect, in other words, that a victory granted also supposed a donation of assets.56 God had granted the conquered land to the monarch and perhaps for this, Peter I could claim that he donated assets to Saint Ponce de Thomières ex alodibus meis propriis, among which was the church of San Pedro in Huesca.57 It is true that, as mentioned, in some cases it was claimed that the gains had been delivered to the Christians by divine mercy, but this did not contradict the above and King Peter claimed that God had handed over Alquézar christiane religioni et michi.58 It was God who granted the monarch full ownership of these assets. Thus, mention was made of the various churches liberated by the sword or those it was planned to free.59 These lands and temples were in the hands of those who were described as pagani, establishing the dichotomy between being in their power or in manus christianorum.60 These were sides in a conflict and the writers were aware of the deaths that these liberations meant. In 1096, King Peter refered to a large number of deaths, both pagans and Chistians, in the context of the conquest of Huesca.61 The aim was military action destined ad destruccionem sarracenorum et dilatacionem christianorum, but they were still aware of their high losses.62 On these expeditions, the

55. Remember the manifestation of Vigilano (Isla, Amancio. Realezas Hispánicas...: 122). 56. Deus omnipotens donavit nobis Monteson... (Ca 1090). Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 219- 220 (doc. No. 9); quando Deus omnipotens donavit nobis eum [Barbastro]; Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 301 (doc. No. 63). Another similar one in 306 (doc. No. 8), comes from Tumbo A in Santiago. 57. 9 May 1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 256-258, (doc. No. 34). 58. November 1099, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 311-313 (doc. No. 72). 59. Thus, in 1081, Bishop Dalmacio of Roda signalled the moment quandocumque... plebs christiana poterit eam [the church of Naval] ab ismahelitarum oppressione liberare et obtinere. Durán, Antonio. Colección diplomática de la Catedral de Huesca. Saragossa: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1965: 59-60 (doc. No. 43). 60. Anno 1089, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 216-217 (doc. No. 6). 61. Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 241-243 (doc. No. 24). 62. 10 July 1091, Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 18-20 (doc. No. 9).

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dead were regarded as having given their lives for their king, but also in God’s service,63 so that the Christians who fought alongside the Muslims against others of their own faith were falsi christiani. The participants in these military endeavours received special recognition, as they placed themselves at risk for the faith and to serve Christianity, an action that went beyond mere conquest.64 The concept has not been fully developed, but is clear that it was there. The idea of liberation that this conquest implied was also a new concept. This was a notion that was incorporated into the Hispanic tradition and one we see in the papal phraseology. At the end of 1088, Pope Urban used it to refer to the consequences of Christian conquest. Commenting on the conquest of Toledo, the Pope talked about the liberation of its church de iure Sarracenorum. While the Muslim invasion had brought the destruction of the church and the loss of the libertas, now it was the liberation that returned it, restituta, to those who had lost it, a return, as described above, to the pristine condition.65 It is interesting that while this vocabulary is not found in the western areas, it already appeared in 1069 in the Aragonese setting, when Sancho Ramírez used it to describe the conquest of Alquézar and the efforts made by its conquerors.66 This terminology does not appear consistently in the western part of the Peninsula. This does not mean that there was no religious aspect to the peninsular war, as seen in the chronicles and documents from the Astur kingdom (where these have been studied for decades), or in the 10th and 11th centuries.67 However, we find no conceptual development comparable to what happened in the eastern areas. The documentation of Alfonso VI still shows the limited spread of these perceptions. During his long reign, actions took place and links were established that should be analysed. The first aspect that should be highlighted is that these proposals are notably absent from the documents that imply links with Cluny, for example, the various royal endowments of the Burgundian monastery, which confirms Cluny’s very passive posture regarding

63. Cis of Flanders had died with some of his sons in seruicio Dei et meo super defensionem corporis mei in posse sarracenorum (January 1106), Lacarra, José Maria. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 39-40 (doc. No. 25). 64. Sancho and his son, recoalling the conquest of Monzón, granted privileges to the Estadillas: facimus homines de Statella quod posuistis animas uestras ad seruicium Dei et fidei Ispanie cum Ihesuchristus dominus noster, simul cum suis sanctis... (November, 1090), Lacarra, José Maria. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 17 (doc. No. 7). However, I have the impression that it should be read fidei Xptiane and not fidei Ispanie. 65. Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia...: 39 and following (“Epistola”, 24) and 43 and following (“Epistola”, 27). 66. adquisistis castrum Alquezar et tulisti ad sarracenorum pessime gentis et mihi libentissime liberastis (27 April 1069, Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 34-35 (doc. No. 17). 67. Although the basic causes and dynamics of the conflict between Christians and Moors in the Peninsula are similar and there are parallel protocols in any sacralisation of the war, it must be recalled that the processes of ideological justification have their development, obviously depending on the political and military requirements, etc. One should bear in mind José Luis Martín and his concern about seven centuries of Crusade (Martín, José Luis. “Reconquista y cruzada”. Studia Zamorensia, 3 (1996): 215-241).

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this.68 The tenor of the documents concerns other questions, naturally the care of the deceased, and also seeking its intervention before the divinity. Situations like the donation of churches in Toledo to Rome or, if anything, even more, the council of Husillos in 1088, did not generate a discourse with a great impact on these religious coordinates that we are collecting. The references in both cases are relatively generic, alluding to the Sarracen invasion and the ruin of the episcopates, or to the specific destruction of the church of San Servando in Toledo.69 This conquest had altered a situation. The Sarracen invasio had led to the destruction of temples, the abandoning of worship and, of course, the loss of the memory of ecclesiastic divisions,70 ecclesiastic rights, of any structure of authority or possibility of development.71 In 1097, those who drew up the narrative about the past thought that the barbarian impetus had dominated the Peninsula and had kept it oppressed for centuries, making any link with the vigorous Christian past disappear. Where the sacraments had been held before, it was said that demons were now called forth. The uniqueness of the Leonese kingdom was the political reading of its military activity. We have cited this above in the anonymous Historia, that we know as by the Seminense or the Pseudo-Pedro, where some of these ideas appear in a very structured way.72 We can see these even more developed in the Historia Compostelana. This contrasts a past where the Christiana religio flourished until the arrival of thetempus persecutionis, when the Muslims made Christian worship disappear, with a new epoch in which the restitutio takes place and the Christian faithful returns to an earlier state.73 It is at this point that we can say that the new parameters were adopted in the western areas. Some scattered references to these ideologies can be found in some western documents. A Jacobean document from 1065 refers to the historical activity of Alfonso III conquering the lands of the gentiles, de manu gentilium abstulit and in

68. In this sense, Cantarino overvalued the role of Cluniacs in the Peninsula (Cantarino, Vicente. “The Spanish Reconquest: A Cluniac Holy War Against Islam?”, Islam and the Medieval West, Khalil Semaan, ed. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1980: 82-109). More moderate was Erdmann (Erdmann, Carl. The Origin of the Idea of Crusade. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977: 68 and following). For the role of Cluny in the crusades: Iogna-Prat, Dominique. Ordonner et exclure: Cluny et la société chrétienne face à l’hérésie, au judaïsme et à l’islam, 1000-1150. Paris: Aubier, 1998: 324 and following. 69. The text of the council of Husillos in: Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 256-258 (doc. No. 97). 70. Fita, Fidel. “Texto correcto del concilio de Husillos”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Historia, 51 (1907): 410-413. 71. In 1082, Sancho Ramírez stated how the royal chapels had been postponed by his predecessors: persecutis gentilium impeditis multis temporibus minus ordinate constiterat (Durán, Antonio. Colección diplomática de la Catedral de Huesca: 61-63 (doc. No. 45)). 72. Isla, Amancio. “La Historia y el discurso sobre la guerra”. E-spania, 14 (2012). 5 January 2013. Université Paris-4 Sorbonne. 4 october 2013 . 73. Floruerat autem antiquitus in illo loco inter catholice fidei cultores Christiana religio, sed, tempore persecutionis ingruente et superba paganorum tirannide Christiani nominis dignitatem conculcante, totus fere Christiane religionis cultus longo iam tempore inde euanuerat. In toto igitur tempore Sarracenorum et longo etiam tempore post restitutionem fidelium... (Historia Compostelana: I, 2; ed. Emma Falque, Historia Compostelana, Turnhout: Brepols, 1998: 8). The author refers to the finding of the apostolic sepulchre, but it is clear that the proposal presents his point of view about the Christian restoration.

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which the intercessio of the apostle Santiago is highlighted.74 However, it happens to be manipulated. Perhaps we must consider another, from the regal circles, in which some of the elements that we have highlighted are noted, namely the transfer of the see to Oca. The text makes reference to the church ab impia ismaelitarum gente destructam. It is not an extraordinary claim, but may be interpolated.75 In fact, in the writings from the first half of the 11th century, when the reasons for the alleged state of disrepair that would justify restoration work are highlighted, mention is made of the years without government, the situation of political turmoil that meant that justice was not done. In some cases, the negligence of the hierarchy is emphasised.76 A document from 1093 incorporates another older one, dated from 1085, and extols the conquering task of the kings. The text emphasises the divine grant of the triumph and thus confirms God’s will regarding the endeavour, but there is nothing else.77 What it suscribes to and admires is Alfonso’s activity expugnans omnes barbaras nationes with God’s help, a dynamic that is also described as seizing these cities from de manibus sarrazenorum. The earliest notable mention in the line we are drawing is from a document from Toledo dated 18th December 1086. This is a pseudo-original that, according to Reilly, was embellished in the process of copying it. Gambra considers it suspicious and, in fact, the presence of some confirmants suggests this.78 Elements that we have highlighted

74. 10 June 1065, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 187-188 (doc. No. 74); Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A...: 191-194 (doc. No. 69). However, there are some problems with the document: being a donation to Bishop Cresconio, a note is added that mentions him in the past (qui tunc sedem Sancti Iacobi regebat). This note is undoubtedly posterior. The text is dated in 1063, but, given that Pelayo was then bishop of León, its date is usually put back to 1065, but he was still then not bishop in March of that year. Jimeno still governed in March and April of that year (Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León...: 356-358 (doc. No. 1134) and Herrero de la Fuente, Marta. Colección documental del monasterio de Sahagún. Leon: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1988: II, 350-351 (doc. No. 641). All this makes the affair somewhat more complex and tends to suggest alteration of the document. It stress the interpretation difficulties because there was not any other witness from the bishop and the titulation of the king is just Legionensis rex; the monarch could call himself princeps or rex in Legione, but this reference that was not part of the political coordinates of the time is anomalous. The confirmants and date must have been copied in Coimbra, giving rise to a donation that, included in the Livro Preto, does not appear among the documents in Tumbo A. We can accept the existence of this journey, perhaps before Pelayo’s ordination, being written some years later and including language that was not necessarily that of the time. 75. This was dealt with by Luciano Serrano, who emphasised the leading roles of Urraca and Elvira, who in July 1074 payed the building of the church of Gamonal, where Oca was transferred to, and granted it to Bishop Jimeno (Serrano, Luciano. El obispado de Burgos y Castilla primitiva desde el siglo V al XIII, Madrid: Instituto Valencia de Don Juan, 1935: I, 290 and following). Reilly warned (Reilly, Bernard. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under King Alfonso VI (1065-1109). Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988: 98) about some of the problems this letter presented, as we know it, and Gambra coincides with this evaluation. 76. 18 February 1085, Cavero, Gregoria; Martín, Encarnación. Colección documental de la catedral de Astorga...: 339-345 (doc. No. 435): negligentia et impotentia pastorum... 77. 29 May 1085, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 214-218 (doc. No. 83): stetitque super eam quousque dominus eam illi tribuit in suo dominio... 78. Carlos Ayala has perhaps a more condescending view (Ayala, Carlos de. “Reconquista, cruzada y órdenes militares”. Bulletin du centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre, 2 (2008): 6). For Gambra, this was an apócrifo o manipulado (“apocryphal or manipulated”) document.

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can be found in the text: a historical perception that refers back to a long occupation by a blasphemous people. There is emphasis on this behaviour against places that are holy for the Christians, with a clear allusion to the churches. The theme is combined with that of historical rights, as the city had been the seat of Alfonso’s ancestors and thus, the line is maintained that advocates its recovery for historical reasons. What is evident is that some of these stances against the Moors reappeared in successive years. In 1088 and in the context of the donation of San Servando in Toledo to Rome, the references to the destruction of an extramural sector of the city a barbaris et paganis are again highlighted. The same occurred in the script from 1089 refering to the see of Santa María, but here perhaps there is not so much the indication of an event, but more a way of understanding the Muslim presence as the cause of the destruction of the churches.79 This document from Toledo contains elements that are already familiar, namely destruction by the Muslims, the restoration that implied the buildings being again consecrated as churches, and the granting of mosques. In 1091, the old idea of the destruction of the episcopal sees reappeared and, with it, the need to remedy the situation, although the sarracenorum ferocitas was held responsible for it.80 In other words, a perception that the kingdom was entering more into conflict was making its presence felt, a perception perhaps also more insecure regarding the process of expansion. We find it reasonable to understand that the defeat at Zalaca and the Almoravid menace served to develop these elements. From the 1090s, it becomes common in Alfonsine documentation to find a request for divine help against the monarch’s enemies. It usually takes the form of imploring super inimicis meis Ysmaheliticis uindictam81 or, in a similar vein, contra gentem paganam oracionum uestrarum instancia possim iuuari.82 The idea of a more turbulent war revolving around religious faith became slowly enshrined. In the final years of that decade, Alfonso recalled the great efforts and calamities he had borne, the abundant financial resources and many Christian lives the “liberation” of Toledoa paganorum perfidia had cost83 and in 1100, he urged the Apostle to help him to conquer the pagani and submit the Muslim faith to his yoke.84 In short, one must wait until around 1085 for these elements to appear that would develop further in later years, a slow movement, of course, if we compare it with what

79. 9 November 1089, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 264-266 (doc. No. 101). 80. 10 November 1091, Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032- 1109). Leon: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1990: 553-556 (doc. No. 1260). Herrero de la Fuente, Marta. Colección documental del monasterio de Sahagún. Leon: Centro de estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1988: III, 199 (doc. No. 885). 81. 13 April 1094, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 335-337 (doc. No. 131). This could show the rise of some Cluniac influence. In his letter to Abbot Paterno, Odilo of Cluny had referred to his constant prayers for the expulsion of the pagani. Odonis Cluniacensis. “Epistola II”, Patrologiae Cursus Completus, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne. Paris: Garnier Fratres-J.P. Migne succesores, 1880: CXLII, col. 941 and the followings. Erdmann had already warned about this. Erdmann, Carl. The Origin of the Idea of Crusade...: 68). 82. 14 April 1097, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 362-364 (doc. No. 141). 83. 13 February [1098-99] Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 393-397 (doc. No. 152). 84. 16 January 1100, Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A...: 194-196 (doc. No. 70); Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 400-402 (doc. No. 154).

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happened in the eastern part of the Peninsula. I do not believe that the only reason for this delay was a significantly lesser exposure of the Leonese kingdom to the general evolution of Western Europe. I believe that one must think that the crusadist proposals supplied a justification for the war against, and conquest of, the Muslims. However, the Leonese kingdom already had its legitimating discourse, which was the recovery of the kingdom of the Goths, the return to the original kingdom, a full restoration in the sense indicated above. The fact that this crusadist discourse progressed faster in the years after Zalaca-Sagrajas seems to indicate that it encountered greater possibilities to grow to the extent that trajectory of the kingdom and its dynamics encountered difficulties and all the edges became sharper.This would probably require all the ideological strength available to it. The military activity of the monarch and his armies grew in importance in these documents.85 Much has been written about the Alfonsine political project and, for our part, we have reinforced its particular reading of it as the recovery of the Visigoth kingdom. From this viewpoint, it did not need to convert a proposal that could substitute the earlier one into a central explanation and one that would lead him to loose many legitimating elements, especially from being so close to the aristocratic turmoil. The king was descended from legitimate Gothic kings and, as such, had full rights to recover what had been their regnum. A simple Christian reading opened the rights to any Charlemagne who wanted to wage war in the Peninsula, while the traditional narrative reinforced the rights of the heirs to the Gothic kings. However, the deterioration of this Gothist starting point, the failure of the Alfonsine political project and the upsurge of Muslim pressure encouraged a language closer to others that were frequent at that time. In the eastern territories, to the extent that these Gothist proposals were weaker, while it was necessary to attract human contingents for the conquest and also, clearly, given that they were more open to influences from across the Pyrenees, the crusading proposals were much more quickly assimilated.

85. Also, 8-May-1107, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 478-481 (doc. No. 188).

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wars in 12th century Catalonia. Aristocracy and political leadership

Maria Bonet Universitat Rovira i Virgili Spain

Date of receipt: 4th of October, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 11th of February, 2015

Abstract

Feudal wars and wars of conquest were characteristic conflicts in Catalonia in the 12th century and led to a consolidation of the aristocratic military and political leaders. Among these, the highest power was the count or the king, who extended his domination and led the process of expansion through such novel formulae as pacification, the formation of armies and pacts with foreign leaders. The counts and the king used military agents from outside the regional aristocratic interests, implemented new military policies and found ideological or legislative resources to support their pre-eminence in military deployment. The rise of the cities, the towns and the defence or occupation of the conquered frontiers contributed to the reformulation of the military system, which broke the almost exclusive hold of the noble families on military activity. However, the members of the latter ruled and fought in regional settings, focussing their military activity on the defending and acquiring patrimony, as well as on establishing their jurisdiction. The concepts of heritagisation, dominating and fighting were assimilated into a single reality, and even became interchangeable. Meanwhile, conquests guided by providence placed the “inevitability” of the conquest, acquisition or “liberation” of al-Andalus on another plane.1

Keywords

Warfare, Medieval Catalonia, aristocracy, military leadership.

Capitalia Verba

Bellum, Cathalonia Mediaevalis, Aristocratia, Principes Militares.

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1. Presentation1

Warfare in Catalonia was transformed in the 12th century with a redefinition of aristocratic relations and military and political leadership.2 Until then, links between members of the chivalrous nobility had committed them to military duties and configured the basic structure of political relations. Throughout the century, some notable lineages came to dominate the land to the detriment of other aristocratic families, although they became more dependent on other powers with greater political projection. Thus, the hierarchy was imposed on the new structure of aristocratic relations, which was facilitated by the county or royal authority.3 The latter reinforced their leadership by organising and leading the main military activities or conquests in Catalonia, but also the peace. Moreover, other actors, linked to the Church or the cities, participated in the above-mentioned military transformation and the appearance of new levels of government.4 War had been an almost exclusive question of the exercise of power by the chivalrous aristocracy with territorial roots.5 However, during the 12th century, other dominant groups in society began to define and control this. The covenants and laws, and new ideas about violence also favoured new military and political developments.6 The containment of violence,7 and the control and administration of newly conquered lands were the key elements of the deployment of emerging

1. This study has been carried out thanks to the research project ’HAR 2009-13225’ from the “Ministry of Science and Innovation of the Government of Spain”. Some dates are listed for information purposes. 2. Some reference works for defining the new political realities: Salrach, Josep Maria. “El procés de feudalització (segles III-XII)”, Història de Catalunya. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1987: II, 327-398; Bisson, Thomas. The Medieval Crown of Aragon. A Short History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991: 35 and following; Sabaté, Flocel. “Els primers temps: segle XII (1137-1213)”, Història de la Corona d’Aragó. Barcelona: edicions 62, 2007: I, 31-123. 3. A similar process took place in the neighbouring kingdom of Aragon: Laliena, Carlos. La formación del estado feudal. Aragón y Navarra en época de Pedro I. Huesca: Colección de Estudios Altoaragoneses, 1996: 247-267; and Utrilla, Juan F. “Los grupos aristocráticos aragoneses en la época de la gran expansión territorial del reino (1076-1134): poder, propiedad y mentalidades”, De Toledo a Huesca. Sociedades medievales en transición a finales del siglo XI (1080-1100), Carlos Laliena, Juan F. Utrilla, eds. Saragossa: Institución Fernando el Católico, 1998: 167-197. 4. For the diversification of the forms of military organisation, apart from the traditional feudal- vasallistic, see Contamine, Philippe. La guerra en la Edad Media. Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1984: 84-127. 5. France, John. Western Warfare in the Age of the Crusades, 1000-1300. London-New York: Routledge, 1999: 39-41. 6. Among the ideological novelties about war, the crusading ideology stands out, what some authors call the idea of “holy war”. For an overview, Flori, Jean. La guerra santa: la formación de la idea de cruzada en el Occidente cristiano. Granada: Editorial Trotta, 2003; and full attention to the historiography of the theme, Ayala, Carlos de. “Definición de cruzada: estado de la cuestión”.Clio y crimen, 6 (2009): 216-242; or related to the reconquest, García Fitz, Francisco. La reconquista. Granada: Editorial Universidad de Granada, 2010: 79-124. 7. Poly, Jean-Pierre; Bournazel, Eric. El cambio feudal (siglos X al XII). Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1984: 164-177 and its relation with the rise of the crusading movement Cowdrey, Herbert Edward J. “From the Peace of God to the First Crusade”, La primera cruzada, novecientos años después: el concilio de Clermont y los orígenes del movimiento cruzado, Luis García-Guijarro, ed. Castelló de la Plana: Castelló d’Impressió, 1997: 51-61.

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powers, which took place in the context of economic growth and changes in the geopolitics of the Iberian Peninsula.8 However, military, and to an extent political, leadership remained mainly in the hands of the aristocracy on a territorial level, except in the areas of the New Catalonia, such as the frontiers or the cities. The noble families resisted their loss of military control to other political bodies, such as the count or the king, thus generating conflicts and a certain sharing of fields of influence. This contribution analyses the characteristics and changes in the Catalan military processes in the 12th century. In this sense, the near monopoly on military activity held by the territorial lords gave way to new actors, and a more complex system of domination arose with renewed political leaderships, like that exercised by the county power. For the purposes of this study, attention is paid to the changes in the typology and formulae in the documentary sources, with the aim of analysing the phenomenon of war through the expressions and registers used in the written records. This, the words and documentary formulae are taken as “signs” of the reality expressed. Thus, over the first third of the 12th century, the relations of power were established through the convenientiae (feudal-vassalistic pacts) and the oaths of loyalty that governed military obligations among the members of the aristocracy. From the mid 12th century, there was an increase in town charters, with regional variables, and a fall in the number of vassalistic pacts. In that phase, much fewer military obligations were demanded than in the early part of the century. Moreover, many beneficiaries of the documents were from non-noble social groups, reflecting the social and political transformations and changes in warfare. In parallel, differences between feudal powers were resolved with letters of pacification in the first third of the century, but these were replaced by judgements from mid century on. Utterances about military activity have been addressed as the uses of words very clearly reflect the contemporary understanding of the various developments in warfare, as well as its social and political aspects. In this sense, the epigraphs chosen here are faithful to most repeated words in the lexis of the sources and show the main concepts that defined warfare for 12th century men. These were: “guerra” (war) applied to various realities, exercitus (army), pacificare (pacification) as a limitation or ordination of war, military leadership as control of the war and castra (fortifications) as the principal symbol of military domination. The approach deliberately stays away from a statist analysis of medieval politics and warfare and, as a result, from a concept of war of great events or as the result of a certain political strategy has preponderated.9 The expansive ephemeris of the County of

8. For the first half of the 12th century in Castile and the peninsular context, Reilly, Bernard. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under King Alfonso VII (1126-1157). Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998. A concise approach to the 12th century, but attentive to the political and territorial changes, Estepa, Carlos. “El dominio político hispanocristiano en el Occidente peninsular (910-1369)”, La historia peninsular en los espacios de frontera: las “extremaduras” históricas y la “transierra” (siglos XI-XV), Francisco García Fitz, Juan Francisco Jiménez, coords. Madrid-Murcia: Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales-Editum, 2012: 17-45 and 33-37. 9. Without wishing to enter into the debate, for an illustrative example of this kind of history of medieval war as a typical series of battles and confrontations between great political formations, Carey, Bryan

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Barcelona were undoubtedly a milestone in the military and political changes, ones which contributed to the definition of the county political leadership, although the military control of the territory had been and continued to be a major source of power. It was mainly the aristocracy that exercised this military function, although in response to the great military, territorial and economic changes, other agents were added from the mid-12th century. These pages show how war was a leading, if not the most important, source of power and how it attracted political legitimacy, here following a different approach, one basically opposed to the idea of C. Von Clausewitz.10

2. Wars, army and pacification

War was the source of the power for the various actors in the political domination, and the transformation of military activity in the 12th century went hand in hand with the changes in political leadership. In the Catalan documentation, the word “guerra” (war) was used to denominate a varied typology of military activities, although it recurrently referred to the feudal conflicts. This use reflects how these military developments were central to the collective “imaginary” of the epoch. In contrast, the use of other terms to refer to larger scale confrontations, such as facere exercitum (form an army) or (acquirere) echoed their special or exceptional assessment of the conquests. The word guerregare/guerrejare (to fight or make war) generally appeared among the obligations of the vassal, put in writing either in the convenientiae or the oaths of allegiance from the first third of the 12th century.11 The vassal agreed to fight for the possessions of the lord and this was expressed in the terms: tenere, defendere et

Todd. Warfare in the Medieval World. Barnsley: Pen and Sword Military, 2009. This does not detract from appreciating the book as a contribution to the study of the tactics and techniques of war. In the Spanish context, the processes of Christian conquest and their political developments remain the main subjects of study in the analysis of warfare and high-medieval policy. Undoubtedly, the larger ones had a major impact, but local or feudal war was a permanent fixture, actively or passively, and crucial in the power relations within feudal societies. Its extent and transformation deserve more attention when describing what war and politics really were in these formations. 10. Following the brilliant approach of John Keegan: War is not the continuation of policy by other means, Keegan, John. A History of Warfare. London: Pimlico, 2004: 3-59, especially 3. The well-known statement by Carl Von Clausewitz sustains that “war is nothing other than the continuation of state policy by other means”. Clausewitz, Carl Von. De la Guerra. Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1976: 320-321. 11. Feudal service was the main formula of recruitment, and even “has served to characterise medieval war as a whole”, García Fitz, Francisco. Ejércitos y actividades guerreras en la Edad Media europea. Madrid: Arco Libros, 1998: 18-21. This fits with the statement thatmedieval warfare was dominated by great proprietors, France, John. Western Warfare...: 53. The spread of the “conveniencias” from the 11th century on has been linked to the need to put an end to feudal violence, or to a feudal conflict in particular, Bonnassie, Pierre. “Les conventions féodales dans la Catalogne du XIè siècle”, Les structures sociales de l’Aquitaine, du Languedoc et de l’Espagne au premier age féodale. Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1969: 169. However, this interpretation contrasts with the fact that the vassal makes commitment to fight to ensure his lord’s heritage, as occurred in the 12th century.

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guerreiare (to hold, to defend and to make war). This way, he was obliged to deploy his military “function” to defend his lord’s holdings. Guillem de Lluçà pledged to fight to maintain the assets of the diocese of Vic of his lord, the bishop. Other vassals specified thatguerram facere (they would fight) for the possessions of the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer III.12 On fewer occasions, the vassal said that adiuvent illos predictos castrum et honore tenere, defendere contra cunctos... qui voluerit tollere... sive guerregare.13 In some cases, the lord even retained the right to fight from the enfeoffed castle.14 The vassal had to participate in other military-type activities, defined in specific terms, like hostes (the hosts), cabalgades (the rides/raids) and the formation of seguis (retinues/entourages). These commitments were contained in the oaths of allegiance.15 Sometimes, the number of knights the vassals had to contribute to

12. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona, de Ramon Berenguer II a Ramon Berenguer IV, ed. Ignasi Baiges, Gaspar Feliu, Josep Maria Salrach. Barcelona: Fundació Noguera, 2010: II, 801-802 (doc. No. 464) (1115). Agreements according to the formula of “tenere et guerregare” (to have and fight for):Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 841-842 (doc. No. 493), 842-843 (doc. No. 494), 843-844 (doc. No. 495) and 844-845 (doc. No. 496); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 850-851 (doc. No. 501) (1118); 852 (doc. No. 502). Sometimes, the defence or the idea of fighting for the lord’s heritage was applied to what the lord would have in the future: Colección de documentos inéditos del archivo general de la Corona de Aragón, ed. Próspero de Bofarull. Barcelona: José Eusebio Monfort, 1849: IV, 38-41 (doc. No. 15) (1134). Other agreements: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 816-817 (doc. No. 476) (1116); 848-849 (doc. No. 499); 902 (doc. No. 539) (1122); 917-918 (doc. No. 545) (1122); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1046-1048 (doc. No. 628) (1130); 1151-1153 (doc. No. 694); 1161 (doc. No. 700); 1207-1209 (doc. No. 732); 1350-1352 (doc. No. 831); 1387-1388 (doc. No. 857); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1582-1584 (doc. No. 975) (1154); Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña, ed. José María Font Rius. Barcelona-Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1969: I, 111-114 (doc. No. 69) (1149). The beneficiaries of the fief would helpibi intrare et exire et guerrejare contra omnes (entering and leaving and/or fighting),Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 640-641 (doc. No. 345), or to “ero tibi aiudator a tener et ad aver(help to hold), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 839-840 (doc. No. 492). 13. It was also expressed: “If there were war for the enfeoffed place, I would defend or guard it”. The brothers Arnau, Bernat and Ramon Pere fought against those who wanted to seize the castle of El Papiol, of which they held the fief,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...:II, 801-802 (doc. No. 464) (1115); the same was done for the castle of Ribes, Colección de documentos inéditos del archivo...: IV, 76-77 (doc. No. 34) (1140). Ramon Pons de Milany swore allegiance for Creixell Castle, and stated to the count, his lord, that he would do everything a vassal should, specifying “military service” and the “wars”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 890-891 (doc. No. 530) (1121). Sometimes, the beneficiary of the custody of a castle, like Ramon Berenguer IV in Peralada, could “intrare et exire et guerreiare” (enter and leave and fight there,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1093-1094 (doc. No. 653) (1132). Other pacts: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1380-1381 (doc. No. 853) (1146) y Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 678 (doc. No. 373) (1107), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II 827-828 (doc. No. 483) (1117). 14. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona y Marqués de Provenza. Documentos (1162-1196), ed. Ana Isabel Sánchez. Saragossa: Institución Fernando el Católico, 1995: 79-80 (doc. No. 42) (1167). 15. Ramon Miró promised his lord, B. R. of Montcada, in the enfeoffment of Montcada Castle, that the milites autem ipsum fevum tinentes faciant...Berengario hostes et cavalcatas et seguiments et servitia: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 628-629 (doc. No. 335), (1101) and similar: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 642-643 (doc. No. 347) (1104); 662-663 (doc. No. 363) (1106); 709-710 (doc. No. 391) (1109); 882-883 (doc. No. 525), (1120); 890-891 (doc. No. 530), (1121); 924 (doc. No. 550); 709-710 (doc. No. 591). Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1065-1067 (doc. No. 634); 1177-1178

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these actions was stipulated, and this oscillated between two and five. One was even obliged to take twenty knights.16 Very occasionally, it was stated that the help was for the host of Hispania —in other words al-Andalus—, that was designated as an extraordinary activity and distinct from the rides or hosts.17 The troops provided by the vassals to the military retinues reflected that these were modest formations. The vassals sometimes had to pay for their maintenance, and other times, they received some kind of assistance from the lord, such as the animals. The fulfilment of military obligations by the vassals was reinforced and promoted in the Usatges, the laws compiled by the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer IV.18 At the end of the 12th century, King Alfonso the Chaste, Alfonso II of Aragon, exonerated the inhabitants of certain places from joining the hosts and rides. This change went hand in hand with the increase in his authority and in the context of the progressive relaxation of these obligations by some dependents.19 The terms guerregare/guerrejare (make war/fight),servicia (military services), “hostis” (host/army) and “cabalgada” (ride/raid) were fundamentally linked to the duties of the vassal. In the framework of feudal-vassalistic relations, the idea of “war” referred to defending of the lord’s possessions in the first third of the 12th century. Moreover, the concepts of “having” or “acquiring” were applied to other warlike developments and thus, warfare was related unequivocally with the act of “heritagisation”. The word war was primordial for designating the struggle between lords in a territory or “feudal war”,20 which was caused by disputes for possessions, and for territorial or jurisdictional domain. Berenguer Ramon de Castellet and Ramon

(doc. No. 712) (1136); 1193-1194 (doc. No. 724); 1263-1264 (doc. No. 768); 1304-1305 (doc. No. 799); 1324-1326 (doc. No. 815); 1420-1421 (doc. No. 880). Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1582-1584 (doc. No. 975) (1145); 1585-1588 (doc. No. 979) (1154); 1705-1707 (doc. No. 1063) (1160). 16. Ut habeat illis in hostes et cavacaldas III milites, según Arbert Bernat prometió a su señor; Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 775-777 (doc. No. 442) (1113); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1598-1599 (doc. No. 991) (1155). Guillem Jofré contributed twenty knights to the count’s army, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 854-856 (doc. No. 504) (1118). 17. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1042-1044 (doc. No. 626) (1129). Et faciam vobis cavalcadas cum meis hominibus et... ostem in Yspaniam cum IIII cabalarios, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1776-1777 (doc. No. 1105). The raids into Andalusian lands were part of the expansionist process, García Fitz, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras en el Mediterráneo latino (siglos XI al XIII). Cristianos contra musulmanes”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte, Daniel Baloup, Philippe Josserand, dirs. Toulouse: Casa de Velázquez and Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 2006: 323-358 and 335. 18. Los Usatges de Barcelona, ed. Fernando Valls. Barcelona: Promocions i Publicacions de la Universitat de Barcelona, 1984: 82 (number 34): Qui fallierit hostes vel cavalcatas seniore suo; 83 (number 35): Qui viderit senorem suum necesse habere et fallierit; 83 (number 36): Qui solidus est de seniore, and 83 (number 37): Qui seniorem suum in bello vivum relinquerit. 19. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 543-545 (doc. No. 410) (1185); 632-638 (doc. No. 479) (1188) and 697-698 (doc. No. 531) (1191). However, King Alfonso continued to call for the hosts and rides in town charters, like the one for Vilafranca, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 698-791 (doc. No. 532) (1191). 20. A well-explained example of “feudal” war is the one between the powerful Montcada and Cardona families. See Rodríguez, Francesc. Els vescomtes de Cardona al segle XII. Una història a través dels seus testaments. Lleida: Universitat de Lleida, 2009: 56, 67-68, 71, 109.

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Berenguer III had a “war” in 1113, as did Pelet and the Count of Pallars Jussa, Bernat Ramon, in 1117.21 Pere de Puigverd promised to fight for Pere de Bellvís, his lord, who was at war with the Count of Urgell.22 A lord often demanded the involvement of his vassal in a specific war or place, as happened with the castles of Tamarit, Mor or Espluga.23 More occasionally, the lord lent military aid to his “vassal” in case of war. The king, Alfonso the Chaste, committed forty knights to the Count of Urgell for the defence of Lleida in 1188, to help him in his war against Ponç de Cabrera.24 Beyond the vassalistic obligations, the word “war” was used for the military actions of the lords in their lands as a generic term for regional conflict. Thus, the attack launched by the Count of Barcelona on his vassal, Berenguer Ramon de Castellet, in 1113 was qualified as such. Later, an agreement for pacification was reached as Berenguer Ramon de Castellet could no sufferre guerram comitis.25 In the struggle for control of Tarragona, Guillem de Claramunt was accused of having made war on the city, territory and inhabitants of Tarragona in 1168.26 Conflicts were sometimes very vicious and could affect all the population, as in Cardona, according to what Ramon Folch related to Pope Alexander III.27 The uprising of the Muslims in the Tortosa area was called war, and it was feared that the guerra sarracenorum could paralyse the harvest in 1174.28 The use of the term “war” identified the revolt at a regional level with other typical episodes of feudal war, surely given that both attacks affected the lord’s power. Given this evidence, it is seen that the word “war” was used for the feudal territorial conflicts in a profuse and generalised way, showing how war really was to the 12th century. Moreover, it identified the attacks carried out by the Muslims, either

21. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. No. 445) and 824-825 (doc. No. 481). It was said of Pelet: pels mals et per guerres que ad illo fecit. 22. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet, ed. Agustí Altisent. Poblet: Abadía de Poblet, 1993: 118 (doc. No. 127) (1150): che io Pere de Puigverd, le’n vala.... de ista guerra aut de gerres tro a fi et acord ne sia venguda. 23. In the enfeoffment of Tamarit, the vassal was required to be and fight with three men in the castle because of the possibility of war, El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus, ed. Federico Udina. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1947: 44 (doc. No. 38) (1134). King Alfonso agreed that the milites of Mor would be by his side in case of “wars” with its lord, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 373-375 (doc. No. 249) (1179). Pere de Malacara would fight in Espluga Castle if his lord took part in a “war”, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 125 (doc. No. 137). 24. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 640-641 (doc. No. 481), and other agreements, 651- 652 (doc. No. 490) (1189), 678-679 (doc. No. 515) (1190). In 1190, the king involved himself in favour of the Count and Bishop of Urgell in another feudal war, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 672-673, (doc. No. 509). Curiously, he had earlier promised his military “help” to Ponç de Cabrera in his war against the Count of de Urgell, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 557-558 (doc. No. 420) (1185). 25. “resist the count’s war”. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. No. 445). 26. Morera, Emilio. Tarragona Cristiana. Tarragona: Diputació de Tarragona, 1981: I, 464 and Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 100 (doc. No. 59). 27. Rodríguez, Francesc. Els vescomtes de Cardona...: 65 (1175-1176). 28. El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus: 144 (doc. No. 142) (1170) and El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus: 181 (doc. No. 179) (1174).

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by conquered rebels or raids from Andalusian positions.29 Finally, it was also used for larger conflicts, like the struggle between Genoa and Pisa, when King Alfonso II pledged to guerris faciam (make war) in favour of the Genoese.30 It also referred to the “war” against King Lobo vel cum aliis sarracenis, undertaken by Alfonso II and the king of Navarre, Sancho the Strong.31 The references to attacks against the Muslims from Catalan Christian lands contained singular expressions related to those used to name war. This peculiarity is evidence of the importance and, especially, the exceptionality with which the conquests of al-Andalus were seen. The providential idea of these expeditions was highlighted and it was common to use the expression facere exercitus (formation of an army) to name them. The language echoed a larger reality and the necessity for or “inevitability” of divine protection.32 In the plans for offensives into Andalusian lands, formulae were used like quando vero, auxiliante Deo ipsa civitas Tortuosa in potestatem christianorum deveniat, quando Deus dederit Ilerdam in potestate christianorum, Ut Deus reddeat Lerida a cristianis or cum eam nos divina gratia adquirere voluerit et obtinere.33 The providential character of the expeditions was added to the idea of “free the lands from the hands of the Muslim”, as King Alfonso expressed it in the plan to conquer Majorca.34 The actions against the Muslims or other foreign enemies were described as acquirere (to acquire), liberare (to loose) and were the result of facere exercitus (of gathering an army). Among the formulae used to name this type of fight, the word “war” was in a lower position than when used for the

29. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, dirs. Maria Teresa Ferrer, Manuel Riu. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: I, 300-302 (doc. No. 44) (1128). 30. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 575-576 (doc. No. 432) (1186): quod Pisani vel aliqua persona...guerram fecerit Ianue...quamdiu guerra illa duraverit, et illis personis guerris faciam per me et hominos meos. 31. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 97-99 (doc. No. 58) (1168). In contrast, the peace with King Lobo would generate resources that would be shared out and that could generate “war” between the two kings, as was warned about. 32. “They will be conquered by God’s will”, “when God returns us”, “when God will give Lleida into the power of the Christians”. The conquests were the result of divine will, and this attribution had already been noted in 11th century Catalan documentation, Sabaté, Flocel. “Frontera peninsular e identidad (siglos XI-XII)”, Las Cinco Villas aragonesas en la Europa de los siglos XII y XIII. De la frontera natural a las fronteras políticas y socioeconómicas (foralidad y municipalidad), Esteban Sarasa, coord. Saragossa: Institución Fernando el Católico, 2007: 77. 33. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1185-1186 (doc. No. 718), Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 104-106 (doc. No. 64), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 291-292 (doc. No. 207) (1176); Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 92-93 (doc. No. 92) and Quando Deus per misericordiam suam tradiderit Yspaniam in manu christianorum, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 103-104 (doc. No. 106) and 104 (doc. No. 107). The providential idea was aplied to other notable military campaigns, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 692-693 (doc. No. 380). 34. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 345-346 (doc. No. 255) (1178): divina providentia gratia de manu paganorum sic in dominio nostro Ihesucristi confidimus, in brevi liberabimus, that in the Catalan counties it was an idea with Carolingian roots, Sabaté, Flocel. “Frontera peninsular e identidad...”: 65. The pontifical crusading ideology referred to the neccesity to “recover”, “liberate”, “return” and affected other discourses orientated towards establishing the legality of the conquest of the Muslim lands, García Fitz, Francisco. La reconquista...: 94-95.

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vassalistic pacts. However, they were also called bellica facta or bellum, as in the Pisan chronicle or Liber Maiolichinus.35 The term army described a military contingent with a large number of troops, especially compared with smaller formations that were used for raids, cavalcades or hosts.36 The armies were mentioned in important military agreements, and to name the forces deployed against the Muslims.37 The Count of Barcelona granted himself the power to gather the troops or the army to attack Hispania, as well as to negotiate peace and war with the Moors, as defended in the legislation in the Usatges.38 The administration of war contributed to defining the count’s authority over other powers, and attributed to the Muslims, or enemies, a primordial area for the execution of his leadership.39 Thus, the king of Sicily had agreed to help the Count of Barcelona with an army and to join his army to attack Andalusian lands.40 In the agreements for the conquest of Tortosa in 1146, the Genoese agreed to contribute an “army” to help Ramon Berenguer IV. This would be equipped with war machines given the scale of the siege and the importance of the alliance, as there is no reference to war machines in other agreements.41 At the same time, the count declared that he would go with his army.42 From the mid 12th century, the phrase facere exercitus (to make an army) was also used as a synonym for the host.43 Basically, the count of Barcelona could form these armies, made up of various contingents, such as the Templars.44

35. Ricerca Lingüística. “Liber Maiolichinus de gestis pissanorum illustribus”. 1st October 2001. Laboratori Linguistica. Università di Pisa. 16th September 2013. : 8 (verse 87), 11 (verse 147), 17 (verse 271), 44 (verse 172), 54 (verse 23), 59 (verse 166), 63 (verse 295), 96 (verse 50), 91 (verse 325): here bellum is used as war. 36. In 10th century Castilian, the exercitus referred to “the set of the magnates with their military entourages” and was a clear precedent for the use of the term seen here, although with the logical chronological and territorial variations, Isla, Amancio. Ejército, sociedad y política en la península Ibérica entre los siglos VII y XI. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa y Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2010: 192. 37. Expeditions against Andalusian lands were called armies: Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 632-633 (doc. No. 479) (1188). 38. Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 88-89 (numbers 63, 64, 65) and 108 (number 124). The latter stated that the princes, in other words the counts of Barcelona, ibi mandarent hostes quibus irent ad destruendam Yspaniam. The principles of Roman political thought were recuperated, and the emperor and his officials had the right to wage war according to Saint Augustine, France, John. Western Warfare...: 40. 39. For the analysis of this process, here only referred to in passing, see Bonet, Maria. Organizing Violence: Peace and War in Twelfth Century Catalonia, forthcoming. 40. In servicium Dei et auxilium exercitus ad exercitum Hispaniam, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1019-1020 (doc. No. 608) and 1020-1021 (doc. No. 609) (1128). 41. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 337-339 (doc. No. 144). There are various references to the army, and some specifically to the county army. 42. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 332-334 (doc. No. 141). The Genovese also committed themselves to a future enterprise to conquer the Balearic Isles. 43. Theoretically, in Tarragona, all knights and men faciant tibi exercitus et cavalcatas to Ramon Berenguer IV, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1511-1516 (doc. No. 941) (1151). 44. Four knights made a brotherhood with the Temple, joining the county armies “against the Muslims”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1354-1356 (doc. No. 833) (1145).­

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The preparing and carrying out the conquests were extraordinary militarily and politically processes. These meant overcoming the concept of military domain by the modest aristocratic armed groups. Thus, in the run up to the conquest of Lleida in 1147, Count Ramon Berenguer IV encouraged the presence of a hundred men in Almenar, which was a spearhead for the advance on Lleida. The military purpose dominated the resettlement and required a large number of men, with the need for watches (guaitas) and supplies for two days in case of war.45 The conquest was coming and the military necessities deferred the payment of the censuses until the fall of the city in favour of the military occupation of the site. Count Ramon Berenguer IV sometimes rewarded the nobles who had participated in his armies. Pere de Puigverd claimed payment for having taken part in the army that had gone to Lorca with ten knights. He asked for 30 morabatins (Muslim coin) per month per person. However, the Count of Barcelona defended himself replied that he had already paid.46 Bernat de Anglesola accused the count of having calling him up for an army that had gone to Aragon, where he had lost many goods. Ramon Berenguer IV denied it.47 He also paid specialist troops, like crossbowmen, although these were few in number.48 The count’s leadership in these actions was buttressed by his ability to pay for military support beyond personal links. The count’s financial power was greater than other lords, to a large extent due to the his access of the resources from the parias, which he dedicated to military activity and domination. So, he promised to pay 1,000 morabatins to the Hospitallers to erect a fortress in Amposta, at the mouth of the Ebro, and 2,000 and 1,000 morabatins to the Count of Urgell before and after the conquest of Lleida, as well as part of the parias.49 The military changes came about through the increase in pressure on the frontier territories, with the conquests of the mid 12th century and clearly after the occupation of the lands and cities of the New Catalonia, that required new forms of political and military organisation. In this sense, the Barcelona comital authority delegated the power to maintain peace and to make war to leading people in the conquered or frontiers areas. He had assumed that power and nevertheless he delegated it, even in places where he supposedly had deployed his authority.50 Thus, Count Ramon Berenguer III instructed the Count of Pallars to ensure peace and war in 1098 before the unsuccessful campaign in Tortosa. His son, Ramon Berenguer IV did the same with the Count of Montpellier by conceding Tortosa to him in 1136,

45. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 104-106 (doc. No. 64) (1147). 46. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. No. 99). 47. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 339-343 (doc. No. 145). 48. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1785 (doc. No. 1114). 49. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. No. 54). 50. The Count of Barcelona enfeoffed Pujols Rubials to Berenguer Arnal, entrusting him per me facias inde pacem et guerram, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 93-94, (doc. No. 93) (1139). In 1191, Ramon de Cervera agreed to make peace and war in the castle of Arbesa enfeoffed by the king: Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: (doc. No. 538) (1191); Other compromise, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 557-558 (doc. No. 420) (1185).

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and to the Count of Urgell, by giving him Lleida, prior to the fall of either place.51 King Alfonso the Chaste ordered Ponç de Lillet faciatis inde pacem et guerram per nos (to make peace and war) when granting him Ascó in 1183 and explicitly against the Moors on giving Alcañiz to the Order of Calatrava in 1179 or Villel to the Holy Redeemer in 1187.52 Similarly, Ramón Berenguer III had entrusted the inhabitants of Tarragona to tenere pacem meam et facere guerra.53 In contrast, this type of demand did not appear in the town charters of Tortosa and Lleida, but rather loyalty to the count and containment of the feudal violence through the imposition of justice.54 The people of Lleida confirmed that they would help the count to retain and hold the city, through a formula similar to the one a vassal pronounced to his lord, but without any reference to military obligation. Pacification was a necessity in the occupied cities. Moreover, since the middle decades of the 12th century, the requirements on a vassal to make war almost disappeared from enfeoffments and oaths of allegiance, coinciding with the consolidation of the peace movement. The royal and comital authorities made the idea of pacification their own, initially pressed by the bishops, and this changed from private places or jurisdictions to all the territory under the authority of the count or king. Alfonso the Chaste imposed a general peace in Catalan territory in 1173, because he claimed it was in the prince’s power; bella sedare, pacem stablire.55 The pre-eminent position of the Count of Barcelona or the King of Aragon in the administration of peace and war culminated in the establishment of relations of power with peninsular political leaders and others. Ramon Berenguer IV and King Alfonso attributed themselves the power negotiate peace and war in various agreements with the kings of Castile or Navarre.56 The Treaty of Tudillén in 1151 between the Count of Barcelona and the King of Castile, Alfonso VII, was defined as a vera pax (lasting peace) and perpetua concordia (perpetual agreement). They divided the territories to be conquered in Al-Andalus, consistent with the fact that these expeditions were carried out under each one’s political authority.57 Other

51. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II: 580-581 (doc. No. 296); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 53-54 (doc. No. 22) and Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. No. 54). 52. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 503-504 (doc. No. 376); and Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 375-376 (doc. No. 279), 599-601 (doc. No. 453) respectively. 53. “have their peace and make war” Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 82-84 (doc. No. 49), 1118. 54. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 121-126 (doc. No. 75) (1149) and 129-132 (doc. No. 79) (1150). 55. Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva de Catalunya (segles XI-XIII). Barcelona: Generalitat de Cataluña, 1994: 74-82 (doc. No. 15) and an equivalent proclamation by Peter the Catholic, 114-125 (doc. No. 20) (1200). The king overcame the pacifying tradition attributed to specific situations, and availed himself of the biblical basis in the Christian ideology referring to the monarchy, Bisson, Thomas. The Crisis of the Twelfth Century. Power, Lordship and the Origins of European Government. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009: 499-505. 56. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 64-65 (doc. No. 28) (1139), 142-144 (doc. No. 60) (1149), 239- 241 (doc. No. 91) (1156), 243-247 (doc. No. 95) (1158), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona....:, 1425-1427 (doc. No. 884) (1149) and Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 97-99 (doc. No. 58) (1168). 57. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 168-174 (doc. No. 62).

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agreements or “paces” were reached between the kings of Castile and Aragon. These defined their areas of influence and upgraded their military cooperation against the Moors and the King of Navarre.58 The peace and cooperation between Christian leaders created the conditions for the great military enterprises and the distribution of the areas of future conquests. However, the leadership of the Castilian king among the Christian kings and leaders in the Peninsula must be highlighted. This was especially clear in the times of the Emperor Alfonso VII, who, at certain times, obtained the vassalage of García Ramírez of Navarre, Ramon Berenguer IV of Barcelona and Alfonso I of Portugal. Castile’s greater military power undoubtedly contributed to a certain preponderance of that kingdom.59 Beyond the Peninsula, given their military and political pre-eminence, Ramon Berenguer IV and Alfonso the Chaste continued important diplomatic negotiations with other leading political powers. An example is the military alliance between the Count of Barcelona and the King of England in 1159 against the Count of Toulouse under his Occitanian policy. This led to an unsuccessful siege of Toulouse.60 Feudal war continued to be fundamental when settling the authority over the land, although pacification, the resort to justice and especially the new needs generated by the conquests, forced a gradual reduction of violent acts under the emerging political authority. The pacifying measures coexisted with the lords’ right to make war in the territory, and the coexistence of these models generated contradictions. One arrangement by King Alfonso aimed at pacifying the roads in Catalonia established a pair of exceptions. Peace on the roads could be affected if there were war between knights or action by the lords whose domains the roads crossed.61 Thus, the pacifying legislation assimilated feudal war and the abuses of the lords within their jurisdictions, although it simultaneously sought to pacify the communication routes.

58. Liber Feudorum Maior, ed. Francisco Miquel. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1945: I, 47-48 (doc. No. 33) (1170) and 48-49 (doc. No. 34), 49-51 (doc. No. 35) or the Treaty of Cazorla (1179); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 56-58 (doc. No. 4) (1162), 564-569 (doc. No. 426) (1186) and 593-594 (doc. No. 448) (1187). In 1170, the commitment was super et contra omnes christianos, preter regem Anglie, Liber Feudorum Maior: 45-47 (doc. No. 32). From the total of eighteen treaties signed by the Castilian king, Alfonso VIII, eight were with the king of Aragon, Estepa, Carlos. “El reinado de Alfonso VIII. Los horizontes peninsulares”, Las Navas de Tolosa (1212-2012). Miradas cruzadas, Patrice Cressier, Vicente Salvatierra, eds. Jaen: Universidad de Jaén, 2014: 211-220; 214-215. The relations between these two monarchies were undoubtedly the most important among the Peninsular Christian powers. 59. Pascua, Esther. Guerra y pacto en el siglo XII. La consolidación de un sistema de reinos en Europa occidental. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1996: 140. This predominance led to intense activity against al-Andalus, not only military, but also political, García Fitz, Francisco. Relaciones políticas y guerra. La experiencia castellano-leonesa frente a el Islam. Siglos XI-XIII. Seville: Universidad de Sevilla, 2002. 60. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirenenca de Barcelona i de la Corona d’Aragó: guerra, política i diplomacia”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Manuel Riu, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: 56-59. 61. Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva...: 15, XI.

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3. Military and political leadership

The Catalan aristocracy was reorganised and established its relationship through oaths of allegiance or “conveniencias” in the 12th century. This reinforced the leading lineages, such as the counts of Barcelona or the viscounts of Cardona.62 There were other types of agreement, like the so-called “pacification”, sometimes identified with a truce, which re-established relations between lords and, significantly, among the Catalan magnates. Moreover, pacification settled differences between members of the territorial aristocracy.63 These solutions ended feudal confrontations, often about property or jurisdictions.64 The pacification agreements fit into the pacifying movement, which grew from various levels of political power, such as the ecclesiastic, the counts and the cities, with legal and judicial measures. The leading powers extended their leadership through the processes of pacification, although these usually involved military solutions, as was the case of the Count of Barcelona. Thus, Ramon Berenguer III strengthened his power in the Viscounty of Béziers through “pacification”, and promised to help Viscount, Bernat Ató militarily against other leading lords, namely the Count of Toulouse or the King of Aragon and in the reconquest of places like Carcassonne or Rases.65 In another pacification in 1127, the count imposed conditions on Ponç II, Count of Empúries, to correct his abuses.66 His men had committed abuses against the church of Girona, or travellers from the County of Barcelona, like those on their way to the fair in Peralada. Peace was associated with the ecclesiastical patrimony and such specific places as the roads, hence the criminalization of the mentioned acts, which were contrary to peace. The count of Empúries had to pay a fine of 3,000sueldos to maintain the truce, destroy the castle he had built in Castelló de Empúries, and hand over hostages as a guarantee of compliance.67 Ten years later, the counts of Barcelona and Empúries reached another “pacification”, after the breaking of truces and mutual accusations.68

62. Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia: Power, Order, and the Written Word, 1000-1200. Cambridge-New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001: 221-222. 63. Various lords agreed a “veram pacem et veram concordiam” (lasting peace and concord) to put an end to the hostilities for Montargull Castle, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 879-880 (doc. No. 523) (1120); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II: 907-915 (doc. No. 543) (1122); or Galcerà de Sales and Bernat de Romanyà in 1183, Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia...: 100. 64. Pacification was defined as the renunciation of goods by Pere Ramon in favour of the Temple,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1550-1551 (doc. No. 954), (1153) and another similar one, 1622-1624 (doc. No. 1009) (1157). 65. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 755-757 (docs. No. 425 and 426), (1112). Among other benefits, the count of Barcelona received the fief of twelve castles. 66. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. No. 595) (1127). 67. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. No. 595), 982-985 (doc. No. 596), 985 (doc. No. 597) (1127) and Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1004-1005 (doc. No. 599); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 55-57 (doc. No. 23). 68. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1209-1211 (doc. No. 733).

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Another peace agreement reached by dignitaries from the two counties of Pallars confirmed the necessity for agreements between magnates. The Count of Urgell, Ermengol VI, and the Count of Barcelona guaranteed this agreement, which highlighted their leadership within the Catalan high aristocracy.69 Artal II and his brother from the Pallars Sobirà and Bernat Ramon of the Pallars Jussà, who had acted abusively in the neighbouring territories, agreed not to seize anything else and restore their jurisdictions. It seems that the pressure from the King of Aragon contributed to them closing ranks in benefit of peace.70 The peaces or truces were not always respected, and with their knights, Viscount Arnau de Castellbó and Arnau de Saga assaulted around twenty-five places in Cerdanya, sacking, robbing, kidnapping and burning in 1188. The region was under a general peace agreement and the king enforced it again after these events.71 Sometimes, and despite the references to queremoniae or armed conflicts, a lord re-established a vassal’s authority by giving him new prerogatives or demanding compensation for him for damage caused by the wars.72 The formula of pacification gave way to judicial solutions in mid century. In the second half of the 12th century, Count Ramon Berenguer IV settled his differences with leading noble figures in judicial proceedings, as with Guillem Ramon de Montcada, his seneschal, Pere de Puigvert and Bernat de Anglesola to name a few, which was the result of his leadership.73 The disputes or claims of the Count or King affected the conquered lands or regions of the March, Tortosa, Lleida and Tarragona, where they had deployed their military authority. The preparations for and, especially the course of, the conquests in the middle of the century strengthened the leading role of the House of Barcelona. The projects for conquest promoted by the County of Barcelona evolved significantly and radically with the military changes of the time. In a first phase of these plans, the Count of Barcelona entrusted the possible occupation of Tarragona and Tortosa in

69. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 938-941 (doc. No. 563) (1112-1124) and 942 (doc. No. 565). The count of Urgell agreed to help the count of Pallars Jussà if the other count failed to comply with the agreement. 70. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 942 (doc. No. 565) (1112-1124). 71. Bisson, Charles. “The War of the Two Arnaus: A memorial of the Broken Peace in Cerdanya (1188)”, Miscel·lània en homenatge al P. Agustí Altisent. Tarragona: Diputació de Tarragona, 1991: 95-107 and Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva...: 17 (1188). 72. In the pacification between Berenguer Ramon de Castellet and his lord, Ramon Berenguer III, the vassal received incomes in Barcelona, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. No. 445) (1113). Sometimes, the vassal reestablished the domain over some patrimonial property that was the subject of controversy, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1148-1150 (doc. No. 692) (1135). Ramon Berenguer III restituted his vassal Ramon Gausbert to Arraona Castle on “pacifying it”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 788-789 (doc. No. 452), or related 453, 454 and 455 (1113). The vassal sometimes compensated his lord for damage caused by the wars, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 824-825 (doc. No. 481) (1117). 73. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1752-1753 (doc. No. 1095), 1753-1760 (doc. No. 1096) and 1760-1764 (doc. No. 1097 Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. No. 99); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 339-343 (doc. No. 145). Other querimoniae, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1693-1696 (doc. No. 1056) (1160).

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the 11th century to other counts. This orientation changed and in the 12th century, the Count of Barcelona pursued various alliances with the Italian maritime powers and such emerging powers as the military orders. The military reinforcement driven by the Count of Barcelona responded to the need to fight the Almoravids, very powerful enemies militarily. Only their fall and the agreement between Ramon Berenguer IV and Ibn Mardanís smoothed the way for the conquests of Tortosa and Lleida.74 Given these circumstances, the role of the territorial aristocracy in the conquests was limited and submitted to the Count. So, the two cities were taken with the help of plural armies, war machines, extraordinary military aid, and after sieges that lasted several months.75 The conquest of Tortosa (1148) was the main landmark in the military terrain, and provided the count with a level of political authority previously unknown. It was a military deployment without precedents in the Catalan counties, and which occurred in the context of the Second Crusade in the West. In this sense, it involved the presence of forces from the feudal West, like the Genoese navy, and required the use of siege machines.76 Ramon Berenguer III had entrusted the conquest of Tortosa to the count of Pallars in 1097. This attempt was unsuccessful, and years later, the Count of Barcelona joined the conquest of the Balearic Isles thanks to an alliance with Pisa. This expedition, with Papal blessing for the Pisans as a crusade, was designed to put an end to the capture of Christians and the harm to trade inflicted by the Muslims on the Pisans from Majorca. According to the Pisan chronicle, the inclusion of the count of Barcelona was accidental.77 In it, Ramon Berenguer III was named dux catalanensis, rector Catalanicus hostes, and together with the count of Empúries, he was called a “Catalan hero”.78 However, the Count of Empúries was not in Ramon Berenguer III’s entourage when the agreement with the Pisans was reached.79 They may have led different groups of troops, or at least it confirms the existence of two

74. Guichard, Pierre. Al-Andalus frente a la conquista cristiana. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2001: 134. For the crisis of the Almoravid regime, see pages 116-133. 75. The siege of a city was large-scale military operation, and the sieges of the Andalusian cities were crucial for the occupation of large areas, and finally for the most important victories against Islam in the Peninsula, García, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras...”: 328-331. 76. For the Second Crusade in the West with such events as the conquests of Lisbon and Tortosa and the expedition to Almería, see Constable, Giles. “The Second Crusade as seen by Contemporaries”. Traditio, 9 (1953): 213-279, although this has been a controversial theme. Almería brought together all the crusading slogans, even putting participation in the march on Almeria campaign before participation in overseas campaigns, Baloup, Daniel. “Reconquête et croisade dans la Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris (ca. 1150)”. Cahiers de Civilisation et Linguistique Hispaniques Médiévales, 25 (2002): 453-480. The Genoese involvement, the “international” presence and the magnitude of the siege in the Genoese version: Caffaro di Rustico. De Captione Almerie et Tortuose. Valencia: Anubar, 1973. 77. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa amb els estats italians en els segles XI i XII”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Manuel Riu, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: 162-163 and 289-291 (doc. No. 37). 78. Liber Maiolichinus...: 68 (verse 89), 76 (verse 304), 82 (verse 46), 91 (verse 326). 79. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 289-291 (doc. No. 37).

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leaders at the head of the Catalans, who had strained relationship. However, the Count of Barcelona appeared as the main Catalan military leader. The conquest of Majorca was short-lived. Nevertheless, this event and the plans against Tortosa and Lleida, speaks eloquently of the interests of the County of Barcelona, spurred on by the mercantile interests of Barcelona and its rivalry with the Kingdom of Aragon, to seize the two cities. This was not about occupying any territory and the military objectives had been chosen carefully. Almost certainly, these operations would not have been successful with only the backing of the regional aristocracy, and were carried out with the help of other armies. This context of the need for more troops explains Ramon Berenguer III’s request to the king of Sicily for help in 1128. The latter agreed to supply fifty ships with an “army of help”, and in exchange, the count promised half of what they conquered.80 In the context of collaboration with the Mediterranean naval powers, the count established an agreement with Genoa according to which the Genoese could cross and stay in his lands, and significantly, make “peace and war” on the Muslims.81 It seems that Ramón Berenguer III understood that the success of his military operations depended on the technical assistance of the Italians, as finally came about with the participation of the Genoese in the conquest of Tortosa. The count of Barcelona reached other agreements with foreign powers. In doing so, he partly dispensed with his nobles, and even indirectly curtailed the possible benefits for such magnates as the Count of Urgell. Among these agreements, one between Ramon Berenguer III with the Moorish governor of Lleida, Avifiel, stands out. The governor agreed to hand over various castles in the Lleida area and to become the Count’s vassal, with the possibility of receiving honours in Lleida or Barcelona. Furthermore, he offered “to help him” militarily in the move against Tortosa and other Andalusian places, and also to share the parias. These solutions show the curious integration of the Muslim leader into Christian politics.82 However, Avifiel must have been preparing his move to Majorca, given that the count agreed to supply him with twenty ships to transport two hundred knights between Christians and Muslims.83 The reference reflects the existence of a navy under the control of the Count of Barcelona. Ramon Berenguer III promised half the lands conquered from the Andalusians to the King of Sicily. Years later, in 1143, his son, Ramon Berenguer IV, granted the Temple a fifth of what they conquered, and then a tenth to the Hospitallers in 1157.84

80. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 300-302 (doc. No. 44). The agreement was still in the memoirs of King Alfonso, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 345-346 (doc. No. 255) (1178). 81. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 297-298 (doc. No. 41) and more about the links with Genoa, Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona...”: 175. A mission was sent to Palermo for this purpose. 82. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: 882-883 (doc. No. 525) (1120): et de Tortosa et de alia Hispania sit illi aiudadors. Et hoc quod alcahaid voluerit habere de his, habeat per manum comitem. 83. Propter hoc convenit predictus comes iamdictus alcahaid ut habeat illi viginti galeas et de gobars tantos ut possit alchaid mittere ducentos cavallos inter christianos et sarracenos et passat illorum ad Maiorcas. 84. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. No. 43) and Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1660-1662 (doc. No. 1028), respectively.

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He had also offered the Genoese a third of what they took.85 The count of Barcelona entrusted part of what was conquered to his military reinforcements. This formula of sharing with those involved in the conquests was different from the traditional system used by counts and other military leaders of enfeoffing places before their conquest. Furthermore, the Count chose powers and institutions that were not linked to the local interests, and did so in detriment to the region’s aristocracies. The donations to the Temple, and even to the Hospital, arose as compensation for the loss of political rights in the kingdom of Aragon. However, the orders soon complied with the objective of fighting the Moors. Thus, the military institutes were involved as agents of the Count’s or King’s authority in conquests, as well as in the occupation of conquered lands. Their specific mission of fighting against the Muslims favoured their inclusion in the expeditions, which was consistent with their special consideration.86 In this sense, the crusading identity was also claimed as a sign of distinction of the Count’s power and especially, his military charisma. In 1113, Ramon Berenguer III had taken the cross from the archbishop of Pisa, and his son, Ramon Berenguer IV, expressed his crusading mission in the resolution imposed on the Templars in 1143.87 The idea of specialization or military specificity grew and this encouraged the involvement of military officers free of family or patrimonial interests whether these were from the military orders, or the Pisan, Sicilian or Genoese navies. The archbishop of Tarragona had a similar intention when he entrusted the occupation of Tarragona to a Norman knight. This way, the prelate dispensed with the consolidated lineages in the surroundings of the city, like the Claramunt, who soon became enemies. Then he instructed the Norman vassal to fight to defend Christianity, with clear crusading resonances, and in so doing, the pact going beyond a mere feudal-vassalistic agreement was forged.88 There was the necessity to achieve greater military efficacy, and in turn, to restrict the activity of the lineages settled in the area. This happened in territories like the wilāyah of Siurana. After it fell, the Count led the repopulation and sidelined the Cervera family, who prevailed over the neighbouring region and had participated in the conquest of Siurana itself (1153-1154).89 The Count of Barcelona used various policies to involve the Catalan nobles in the conquests. These were affirming his leadership in these initiatives, promoting

85. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 309-314 (doc. No. 51) (around 1146). 86. Ad exercendum officium milicie in regione Ispanie contra sarracenos, Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. No. 43). 87. It was said about the count: sanctissime crucis signum a Petro reverentissimo Pisanensi...archiepiscopo...suo humero susceperat, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 300-302 (doc. No. 44) and Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. No. 43). This identification of the Count with the crusading movement was reinforced from the papacy shortly before and somewhat after the conquest of Tortosa, Bonet, Maria. Organizing Violence... 88. In defensionem Chistianitatis militiam exerceas, Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 87-89 (doc. No. 51) (1129). 89. Bonet, Maria. “Las dependencias personales y las prestaciones económicas en la expansión feudal en la Cataluña Nueva”. Hispania, 66/223 (2006): 425-482; 437-477.

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the family lines close to the Count and impeding the promotion of lineages. He also reached agreements to ensure his military pre-eminence and link some Catalan magnates to the main enterprises. He sometimes managed to have some recognise him as the lord of the regions of Lleida or Tortosa once they fell, as the hostile Count of Empúries did. Furthermore, in the 1130 covenant, Ponç II of Empúries agreed to help him militarily. However, the Count of Barcelona had no intention of benefiting him, as he did with other members of the aristocracy who were loyal to him. Ponç was not a member of his circles, and they both left behind a series of conflicts, which escalated again later.90 In the “conveniencias” in the first half of the 12th century, the Catalan nobles confirmed their links to the Count of Barcelona. They expressed their commitment to help him to conserve the parias he received from Andalusian lands, and even the lands he might conquer. It was a different formula to the characteristic feudal-vassalistic pacts and in it, the vassals recognised the Count’s power to receive the parias and administer the conquered lands.91 The Count of Barcelona reached specific agreements with lords who were important for his military campaigns against Tortosa and Lleida, and his leadership prevailed among his magnates. Ramon Berenguer IV conceded the city and fortifications of Tortosa to William of Montpellier as a fief in 1136, in exchange for William’s military involvement under his command.92 Ten years later, he granted his seneschal, Guillem Ramon de Montcada, a third of Tortosa and the Balearic Isles.93 However, Tortosa only fell thanks to the incorporation of contingents from far-off places and, especially, Genoese naval and military support. Ramon Berenguer IV formalised an agreement with Genoa for the conquest of Tortosa and the Balearic Isles in 1146, just when the Italian city reached another arrangement with the King of Castile to conquer Almería.94 In the pact, the Count of Barcelona referred to the one between the Genoese and Alfonso VII, and stipulated that they would attack

90. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1046-1048 (doc. No. 628) (1130): Poncius comes... Raimundo comiti... adiutor sit... honore... de ipsa Fraga et de Lerida... ad Tortuosam. De istis civitatibus.. comes Barchinonensis habet... predictus Poncius.. sit... fidelis adiutor ad tenere et aprehendere, conquirere atque defendere. 91. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 644-645 (doc. No. 349) (1104); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, (doc. No. 363) (1106); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 726-729 (doc. No. 402) and 729-731 (doc. No. 403) (1110): about the parias: de ipsas paries de Hispania quas hodie habes...sunt tibi et...adhuc adquisiturus est, Deo dante, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 740-741 (doc. No. 413) (1111); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 968-969 (doc. No. 587) (1126). Joan de Sanmartí swore to the count that he would help to defend everything he had or would have in Yspania, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 844-845 (doc. No. 496). Guerau Alemany de Cervelló swore allegiance to the count in the terms: Et convenit quod adiuet eum fideliter tenere omnem honorem suum non solum in christianitate sed etiam in Ispania, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1352-1353 (doc. No. 832) (1145). A vassal of the count, Deusdat, had to go to collect the parias under the orders of the Count of Barcelona, who granted him a tenth and goods in Valencia quando Deus dederit ei de terris Ispanie, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1155-1157 (doc. No. 696) (1136). 92. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1185-1186 (doc. No. 718) (1136). 93. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1379-1380 (doc. No. 852). 94. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 309-318 (docs. 51 and 52). The agreement would have come a month after the one with Montcada, which reflects that the Count’s solutions with the seneschal and the Genoese were complementary, a third for each of the three parties.

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Tortosa and the Balearic Isles on their return from Almería. It was, in a way, a three- way agreement. These agreements allowed the Genoese to maintain colonies to consolidate their trade in the Western Mediterranean, and in exchange, they guaranteed the leadership of the Peninsula’s military leaders.95 The comital alliance with the Genoese had the backing of the leading figures of the Catalan nobility, who recognised the agreements and the count’s command. The Genoese placed themselves under his authority, as they only besieged cities from the Ebro to Almería with his permission, and the Count would receive two thirds of everything seized. At the end of the contest, after the decisive participation of the Genoese, the city was divided into three, and the Count strengthened his position through the formula of partition and incorporating loyal people at the head of the city, such as the seneschal Montcada and the Templars. Finally, he acquired the Genoese part, which reflects how the count’s military leadership favoured his political domination of the conquered lands.96 Before the fall of Lleida, the Count of Urgell had taken up tactical positions around the city of Lleida with the aim of conquering it. This approach took place through enfeoffments in the Pla d’Urgell or places near Lleida. With these, his vassals were involved in the military tasks, or simply established his authority by renewing ties with prominent vassal lords. The military build-up in the region was fuelled by powerful lords in the years before the conquest, and significantly by Ermengol VI of Urgell. So, for example, the Count granted a “turrim destructam” (destroyed tower) in Bellcaire, and the beneficiaries were given the obligation to rebuild it. As an extraordinary situation, they were allowed to enjoy an income to finance the defence against the Muslims during the construction of the fortification, or until the fall of Lleida.97 In the run up to the conquest of Lleida, the Count of Barcelona established a vassalistic pact with the Count of Urgell that gave him the military leadership of the operation and the domination of the city. Through that agreement and after the conquest, Ramon Berenguer IV limited of Ermengol VI’s authority, because it converted the region, which had been the area of expansion of the County of Urgell, into a conquest of Barcelona.98 The Count of Barcelona identified the conquests as territories under his authority and with a differentiated, military and frontier

95. The mercantile and naval interests of the Genoese in the western Mediterranean clashed with their Muslim enemies, who threatened their trade links with Provence and Catalonia. Moreover, Pisa, rival par excellence of Ligurian interests, had reached a trade agrement with Almería in 1133. For a series of Genoese attacks in North Africa and Almería combined with political pacts like the ones referred or with Marseilles, Antibes and other cities, Montesano, Marina. “La guerra dei genovesi nel Mediterraneo: da Gerusalemme alla presa di Almeria e Tortosa (secc. XI-XIII)”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte, Daniel Baloup, Philippe Josserand, dirs. Toulouse: Casa de Velázquez and Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 2006: 255-275; 272 and 273. This is the context in which the pact with the count of Barcelona should be seen. 96. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1563-1564 (doc. No. 963), 1564-1566 (doc. No. 964) (1153). 97. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 93-94 (doc. No. 56). 98. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. No. 54).

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character, which translated into his entitlement as Marquis of Lleida and Tortosa, titles that might had military connotations as well as an honourable sense, especially because at the same time the traditional counties were getting obsolescence99. The asymmetric reality of the relation between the two counts was shown in a series of compensations that the Barcelona leader granted to the Count of Urgell. The great military events responded to the interests and objectives set from the County of Barcelona. The conquest of Tortosa, the most difficult, was the first, given that it was the most necessary and the most interesting in economic terms. Lleida would come later, and finally Siurana. The plan to conquer Majorca was present throughout the century, as was the one for Valencia at some moments, as King Alfonso the Chaste warned in 1176. This series of victories contrasts with the difficulties that the Count of Barcelona had to impose himself in territories where local lords prevailed, sometimes maintaining armed conflicts and others simply dominating. Some regional lineages sought alliances or vassalistic allegiances and consolidated their power, also prior to the conquests. This happened in the Conca de Barberà, the Baixa Segarra, the Garrigas, and even in the Camp de Tarragona. The new security conditions derived from the taking of Tortosa and Lleida changed this panorama, or at least favoured divergences with the new political agents. These differences were revealed, for example, in the litigation by Bernat and Berenguer de Anglesola against Count Ramon Berenguer IV. The Anglesola claimed the domains they had been occupying between Anglesola and Lleida, although the Count defended himself by claiming that he had acquired them from the Muslims with the conquest of Lleida. He added that neither his grandfather, as the Anglesola claimed, nor he himself had granted these honours to them. In light of this news, seen as the prelude to the conquest, the Christian domains in the vicinity of Lleida were extended, but finally the Count of Barcelona was vindicated and validated these as his acquisitions to Muslims.100 The authority of the Count or King did not always prevail, and they came to recognise that of lords of the territory who had been refractory to their authority, such as the Cambrils lineage. Despite the difficulties, royal and county leadership over the territorial aristocracy was reinforced thanks to military developments. One must ask how the Count and King achieved their leadership. They reached this pre-eminence through agreements with other kings in the Peninsula, the control of the parias with the Moors, the pacts with the Italian powers, the reception of the crusading idea and the settlement of the “Battler”’s will, the administration and extension of the pacifying process, the submission of some important magnates, the renewal of many loyalties, the rise of the regular orders, especially the military ones, and also and especially, the consummation of their military leadership. Furthermore, the political hierarchy of the epoch, especially when the Count of Barcelona was also king, granted him the condition of military leader par excellence. Count Ramon Berenguer IV, especially after the conquest of Tortosa, and King Alfonso the Chaste participated in, or led,

99. Sabaté, Flocel. El territori de la Catalunya Medieval. Barcelona: Fundació Salvador Vives Casajuana, 1997: 30-41. 100. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: 1760-1764 (doc. No. 1097) (1153-1162).

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expeditions of conquest or other military endeavours year after year, except for a brief halt after the inrush of the Almohads. Their military leadership was made explicit through a significant continuity of the periods of warfare.

4. Fortifications and military policy

The fortifications were the axis of warfare in 12th-century Catalonia, following the systematic military system in the feudal West based, above all, on siege warfare.101 Thus, the fortresses or fortified towns were the centres of political authority in the territory.102 The lords based their domination of a region on their castles and the enfeoffed ones. In addition, the comital power sought to achieve control of the fortifications, although the results were often mediocre. A principal element of the relation agreed between lords was the donation of the fief or castle to the vassal. Furthermore, these feudal-vassalistic agreements contained provisions for military services and the links that ruled the hierarchic structure of power. This way, the vassal specified the castles for which he owed allegiance through his oath.103 Moreover, on occasions, he enumerated the lord’s castles when he promised to defend all his “honours”.104 Access to the castles by the lords was central to the relations of power, as it reinforced their authority over that of the vassal. In this sense, the lord reserved the right to stay, estatica, in the fortifications, and claimed it in the enfeoffments,

101. Contamine, Philippe. La guerra en la Edad Media...: 127-128, García, Francisco. Ejércitos y actividades guerreras...: 50-56. The great majority of confrontations in war at that time were sieges, Bradbury, Jim. The Medieval Siege. Woodbridge-Suffolk: Boydel, 1992: 71, although J. France qualified that rather generalised idea that “battles were relativley rare”, France, John. Western Warfare...: 150. The building of fortifications increased all over the feudal West in the High Middle Ages, and the development of defences in the lands of the Eastern crusades was also very notable, Keegan, John. A History of Warface...: 141-142 and Chevdden, Paul, E. “Fortifications and the Development of Defensive Planning during the Crusade Period”, The Circle of War in the Middle Ages, Donald Kagay, Andrew Villalon, eds. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1999: 33-43. 102. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La organización militar en Cataluña en la Edad Media”. Revista de Historia Militar, 45 (2001): 120-139. 103. Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia...: 85-86. Guillem Jordà I; Galcerà Miró; Berenguer Ecard; Dalmau Bernat; Pere Ramon detailed the castles for which he owed allegiance to the Count of Cerdanya, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 710-711 (doc. No. 392), 712-713 (doc. No. 393), 714-715 (doc. No. 394), 718-719 (doc. No. 396), (1095-1109) respectively, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 726-729 (doc. No. 402), 740-741 (doc. No. 413) (1111), 781-782 (doc. No. 446) (1113), 923-924 (doc. No. 549) (1123), Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 67-69 (doc. No. 30) (1139). Also in the convenaintiae, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 732-733 (doc. No. 405) (1110), 744-745 (doc. No. 416) (1111), 750-751 (doc. No. 421) (1112), 917-918 (doc. No. 545) (1122), 1009-1010 (doc. No. 602), 1013-1014 (doc. No. 604). Sometimes, the vassal gave the “power” over his castles to the lord with whom he acquired the vassalistic link, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 656-660 (doc. No. 361) (1097-1105). 104. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 663-664 (doc. No. 364) (1106); 683-688 (doc. No. 376) (1107); 917-918 (doc. No. 545); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 58-41 (doc. No. 15) (1134).

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especially in the first half of the 12th century.105 The right to stay, normally with lodging or forfait, was detailed in some county diplomas, in Cerdanya, Pallars, Urgell or Barcelona, and often appears in those signed with the viscounts of these counties in the early decades of the century.106 This requirement was justified by the fact that “Potestatem de suo castro... nullo homo contradictat homo seniori suo”, as indicated in the legislation in the Usatges.107 In fact, the expression “have power” in the castle was used as a synonym of the right to stay.108 This explains that the lords intervened in the castles through the figure of the castellan, who they chose directly or had to approve if this person were chosen by the vassal.109 The construction of fortresses was the result of the exercise of authority in a region and also a bore witness to this. Thus, after disputes over the control of an area, fortifications were destroyed in accordance with the “authority” acquired by the winner of the dispute. The Count of Barcelona obliged the Count of Empúries to destroy fortresses, like the above-mentioned one in Castelló d’Empúries, and the castles of Charmezo and Rocabertí in 1138.110 Furthermore, Ponç II Hug of Empúries agreed not to raise any fortifications in the bishopric of Girona and Roussillon.111 Similarly, the Count of Urgell agreed with some lords of the region on the destruction of the fortifications raised in Meià, and not to build others.112 The right to fortify was identified with the exercise of authority in a territory. However, the political domination of the Count meant he claimed control over

105. It was specified in feudal-vasallaistic pacts, thus Lord Ponç Bernatretinet... sua estatica in ipsum castrum, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 110-111 (doc. No. 117) (1149). Even the right to abode affected the castellan of the lord and the lord, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1297-1299 (doc. No. 795) (1142); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 288-290 (doc. No. 205) (1176). 106. The vassal gave the “potestad” (power) and abode of the castles to the Count of Cerdanya, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 712-713 (doc. No. 393). Other oaths of allegiance with recognition of abode for the lord: 662-663 (doc. No. 363) (1106), 663-664 (doc. No. 364) (1106), 667- 668 (doc. No. 366) (1106); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 888-889 (doc. No. 529) (1121); 890-891 (doc. No. 530) (1121); 964-965 (doc. No. 585) (1126), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1007-1008 (doc. No. 601) or in convenientia, 1075-1076 (doc. No. 643) (1130); 1150- 1151 (doc. No. 693) (1136). Bernat Berenguer allowed his lord, Ramon Renard, to stay in the fief and moreover recognised the “potestad” of the lord’s lord, the Count of Barcelona, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 924 (doc. No. 550) (1123). King Alfonso reserved the “potestad” of consigned castles, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 96-97 (doc. No. 57) (1168). 107. “The power over the castles should be returned their lords”, Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 84 (number 42). 108. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 667-668 (doc. No. 366) (1106). The vassal was asked to “diese la potestad” (give him the power), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 261-262 (doc. No. 181) (1174), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 627-628 (doc. No. 474) (1188), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 660-661 (doc. No. 498) (1189). On the right of “postat”, Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La organización militar...”: 139-144. 109. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1280 (doc. No. 780); 1424-1425 (doc. No. 883) (1149); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 174 (doc. No. 110) (1171); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1585-1588 (doc. No. 979) (1154). 110. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. No. 595) (1127) and Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1209-1211 (doc. No. 733) (1138). The count’s steward committed himself to destroy “edificios”(buildings) built in the Monte de San Lorenzo,Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 42-44 (doc. No. 17) (1136). 111. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 599 (c. 1127). 112. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 81 (doc. No. 79) (1132).

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the fortifications. The Count of Barcelona reserved the right to “give permission” for the building of fortifications, monasteries or churches, in a plan that was more theoretical than effective.113 Thus, a sentence went against the building of castle by Galcerà de Salses sine litentia comitis, and appealed to the “usatge” to impose the wishes of Count Ramon Berenguer IV. 114 The consolidation of castles and lineages in regions neighbouring those that were going to be conquered were vital for later military developments, such as in the areas of Lleida or Siurana. Indeed, the erection, reconstruction and enfeoffment of fortresses in the regions near the city of Lleida was promoted years before its conquest. The military scheme of establishing counter-castles before enemy strongholds or cities was followed. These were safe bases from which to launch attacks to wear down the enemy positions before their conquest.115 Some enfeoffments mention the fortress having to be built or rebuilt, for example in Bellester, Pujols Rubiols, Tarrés, or report that it was destroyed, with the aim of rebuilding or repairing it.116 Lords interested in conquest, like the Count of Urgell, consolidated their authority through the enfeoffment of castles that were in the hands of other lords, as he did with Ramon Arnal, who had fortified Almenara. The Count of Urgell was aware of the position of some fortificationsinfra finibus marchiarum, and the need to establish vassalistic relations in these places to reinforce his authority.117 The requirements to lend military duty were frequent in the enfeoffments or in donations in the Marches of the Counties of Urgell and Barcelona in the two decades prior to the conquests of Lleida and Siurana.118 The “castralisation” or militarisation of the region responded to a defensive programme, but military reinforcement was also designed to attack Lleida. Thereby, the Templars were given the charge of “defending Christianity” from their castle of Barberà by the Count of Urgell in 1132, which was located in the region.

113. Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 92 (number 73). However, there are examples of action by the Count and the King in line with this disposition. King Alfonso gave permission to the Abbot of Cuixà to fortify a town under his authority, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 215 (doc. No. 144) (1173), and other places, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 433-434 (doc. No. 325) (1181). 114. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1152 (doc. No. 1012) (1157). 115. García Fitz, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras”...: 335. 116. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 88-89 (doc. No. 86) (1138), 93-94 (doc. No. 93) (1139) and 111 (doc. No. 118) (1149), respectively. The reconstruction of Bellcaire and Torre Fanega, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 92-93 (doc. No. 92) and 97 (doc. No. 98), and a demolished castle in Penelles d’Algareix, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 106-107 (doc. No. 111) (1147). 117. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 871-2 (doc. No. 518) (1120) and Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 92-93 (doc. No. 92) (1139). 118. The watches, or the obligation of vigilance, were demanded in enfeoffments like Milmanda, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 108-109 (doc. No. 114) (1148 or 1149). In the enfeoffments of three castles, the lord demanded hosts and rides, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 116-117 (doc. No. 124) (1150). There was military tension in L’Espluga when a vassal was warned that if his lord habet guerram ipsum chastrum d’Espluga que adguent a gueregare, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 123-124 (doc. No. 135) (1151). It was a seignourial war, although the lord understood that the castle needed reinforcement after the conquest of Siurana: et quando siat de cristianos Siurana faciatis vestra estatica ad ipsa Espluga.

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The Templars and Hospitallers were chosen with the aim of their developing military activity in the conquests and, significantly, in the domination of the occupied areas from imposing fortresses they obtained. From these, they defended the southern frontiers around the lower reaches of the Ebro. To give an idea, the military orders exercised their domain from the Suda of Tortosa, the castle of Gardeny in Lleida, and the fortresses of Amposta, Miravet, Ulldecona, Ascó and Horta, among others. The Count of Barcelona urged them to “ad propagandam sancte christianitatis fidem” and attacks the Muslim “infidels”.119 Moreover, he involved the Templars and Hospitallers in the conflicts, to obtain booty and Muslims, who had to be captured on the raids.120 The orders became consolidated given their military skills against the Moors and, especially, in occupying their lands, which they did in the name of the county or royal authority. From the mid 12th century, there was a notable process of “castralisation” of the frontier lands, those occupied or re-feudalised and the conquered ones. The lords who led the occupation of regions like the Camp de Tarragona and the other conquered areas promoted the centralisation of power in a fortification or fortified place. There was a seigniorial push both to build fortifications and to reoccupy Andalusian castles and towers. In the Tarragona area, the beneficiaries of enfeoffed places where the population would gather were obliged to build fortifications. This happened in the enfeoffments of Mongons in 1149, Riudoms in 1151, where the lord would pay for half of the fortification, Cambrils in 1152, Salou in 1157, Albiol and Alforja in 1158, and also in Siurana in 1163, Rocabruna in 1171, or Picamoixons in 1171.121 In the conquered areas of Tortosa, Lleida and Siurana, the county and royal donations placed the fortifications at the centre of territorial domination, granted fundamentally to loyal people and the military orders.122 Castles were the focus of military domination, and by extension, the domain over the rural districts. Accordingly, they were also the main targets in power struggles. This is clearly seen in the judicial dispute between the Count of Barcelona and Pere de Puigvert in 1157 for various castles: Prenafeta, Piera and Barberà, or another

119. “Propagate the Christian faith”. Other expressions reflected that it was a war without quarter, and that the Moorish enemies had to be destroyed, García, Francisco. “¿De exterminandis sarracenis? El trato dado al enemigo musulmán en el reino de Castilla-León durante la plena edad media” El cuerpo derrotado: cómo trataban musulmanes y cristianos a los enemigos vencidos, Maribel Fierro, Francisco García Fitz, eds. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2008: 113-166; especially 113. 120. Bonet, Maria. “Las órdenes militares en la expansión feudal de la corona de Aragón”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia medieval, 17 (2011): 243-300, especially 255, 259-260 and 259-279. 121. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 114-115 (doc. No. 70), 135-136 (doc. No. 84), 143-144 (doc. No. 91), Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 169 (doc. No. 200), Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 161-162 (doc. No. 109), 162-163 (doc. No. 110), 175 (doc. No. 121) and 200-202 (doc. No. 140). 122. An example is the King Alfonso’s concession of the fortifications of Tivissa, Mora, Garcia and Marçà to Guillem de Castellvell, member of a loyal family, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 261-262 (doc. No. 181), (1174).

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case between King Alfonso the Chaste and Ramon de Fonollar for the castles of Empúries and Fonollar in 1190.123 Only in certain areas did the Count or his son manage to exert domination through delegates of their direct authority in the castles. In this sense, resort was made to such figures as the castellan. This representative went from being the holder of castles to being the king’s representative in the territory with certain military and political rank, that was different from the figure of the vassal or the seigniorial castellan himself. In the Siurana area, King Alfonso the Chaste opted to delegate his power to a castellan, Albert de Castellvell. As a government official, the castellan of Siurana participated in the granting of population charters in the more mountainous parts of the demarcation.124 This was specific situation in a region where the King asserted his rights of conquest against those theoretically acquired by the archbishop of Tarragona and exercised by other lords125 In the neighbouring area of the Conca de Barberà, the Count and his son, the King, faced the resistance of the local lineages and promoted the founding of localities or fiefs to limit this. Thus, King Alfonso promoted a population centre in Montblanc, under the authority of his bailiff for some time and then under the rule of the castellan. The castellany was made up of Montblanc and La Riba in 1176-8.126 The castellan held half the castle, although the king could use it and its dependencies militarily through the “hosting and the host”. The figure of the castellan was consolidated as the king’s representative with a specific military function, and the presence of this position spread to places that had other dominations. Thus, Alfonso the Chaste enfeoffed Conesa Castle to Ramon de Cervera, although he included his castellan in the concession and he also had to serve the king with his milites.127 An agreement between the Count of Urgell and the King in 1187, established that et rex Aragon...mittat castlanum in predicta civitate Ilerde, as a way to exercise his power in the city.128

5. Conclusions

The concept of “war” was directly related to the defence or acquisition of patrimony, as seen recurrently in the documentation. The members of the aristocracy verbalised

123. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. No. 99). Sometimes a “conveniencia” was established for setting rights to castles, in general in the king’s favour in areas subjected to powerful lords, like against Guillem de Cervera, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 370-372 (doc. No. 276) (1179). 124. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 175 (doc. No. 121) (1163), 186 (doc. No. 128) (1166), 189-190 (doc. No. 133) (1168), 196-198 (doc. No. 138) (1170), 199-200 (doc. No. 139) (1170). 125. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 218-220 (doc. No. 148) (1173). 126. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 288-290 (doc. No. 205) (1176), Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 418- 419 (doc. No. 571), and the previous provision of the office of bailiff,Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 46-48 (doc. No. 12) (1163). 127. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 367-368 (doc. No. 272), (1178). 128. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 586-589 (doc. No. 443), and added: comes Urgel donet potestatem de predicta civitate Ilerde regi Aragon (1187).

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their commitment to fight for the lord’s patrimony and to hold fiefs. Heritagisation, domination and fighting were concepts that could be assimilated to a single reality, and were even interchangeable. Thus, the term was especially identified with the defence of property in a more private sense than any other, and the expression “pacify” was applied to the restitution of seized property. In this context, the word “war” was used profusely to refer to the feudal war, the conflict par excellence in 12th- century Catalonia, although it was also applied to other larger military confrontations. In parallel, the participation of the different powers in the fortifications reflected that these were the focus of domination and regional war. This way, the castle was the target of intervention by the lordly powers, lords and vassals, and the axis of the military policies in the domain of territories, like those policies applied by the county or royal powers. These both intervened in the territories through the push for “castralisation” and to link the holders of the castles as vassals. The Christian plans and attacks on al-Andalus went by specific names, like the reference to the intervention of divine providence in favour of Christianity, the facere exercitus (forming of an army) and others like capere (conquer), adquirere (acquire), liberare (liberate), and also guerram facere (make war). The language expressed the exceptional and special nature of these other conflicts, as shown by their being defined as supernatural. In this context, it should be noted that the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer III, participated in the first large-scale Catalan attack, together with the Pisans, while also sharing the leading position with the Count of Empúries. Yet, the Count of Barcelona stood out for that fact that he had an “army”, paid some of these forces and, it seems, had some naval capacity before the middle of the 12th century. The Count of Barcelona’s first plans for conquest included cooperation with some other count. However, these were replaced by projects that included the help of Italian contingents of specialised soldiers, like the military orders. In fact, he did not stand out in the military terrain until he managed to conquer Tortosa (1148), and he did so thanks to the special contributions of the Genoese, foreign fighters, the Templars and military techniques unknown until then in Catalonia, at least effectively and in combination, namely a navy and war machines. In this and subsequent operations, the Catalan aristocracy came under the military leadership of Ramon Berenguer IV, and to an extent, were relegated. Just one year later, the conquest of Lleida, which had been started by the County of Urgell, became another victory for the County of Barcelona, although with the participation and recognition of the rights of Urgell under his domain. Something similar happened with the conquest of the “wilāyah” of Siurana and which meant greater involvement of the Count of Barcelona in the region. The count had partially ousted the Count of Urgell, and clearly done the same to the lineages of the regions on the frontier of the newly-conquered lands, like the Anglesola, Cervera, and even the Puigvert families. Shortly after the two most notable conquests of the mid-12th century, and in the county legislation, Ramon Berenguer IV granted himself the right over pax et guerra (the peace and the war), especially in relations with the Moors, and which King Alfonso the Chaste would renew. Both claimed this right in their domains and the areas under their influence, but ended up delegating this to their representatives. In

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contrast, this theoretical pre-eminent position in the administration of the “peace and the war” favoured agreements about military strategy in the Peninsula with other leaders on the same level. The Count and then the King derived a certain authority from war, and this helped to reinforce their political leadership in such questions as relations with the other leaders in the Peninsula, more direct intervention in the conquered areas and greater control over their relations with the aristocracy. In fact, during the 12th century, the aristocracy was reorganised and came under the leadership of important families in the region and the counts, like those of Barcelona or Urgell. The latter undertook various “pacifying” actions that meant the submission of the pacified nobles to their leadership, especially militarily, above all in the first half of the century. Moreover, by the second half of the century, the commitments to wage war on behalf of the lord had practically disappeared from the documents of enfeoffment. Significantly, the consolidation of the military and, partly, political leadership of the county of Barcelona derived from the exercise and control of the peace. The comital policies to achieve this pre-eminence varied, as did the agreements with the members of the nobility, which ranged from submission to their involvement in the great events. Furthermore, they dealt with ideological elements, like the crusading arguments, that contributed to the idea of a certain military specificity or specialisation and favoured the incorporation of new agents. The pacts with foreign allies were also important as these provided extra and extraordinary military powers over and above the local possibilities. In 12th-century Catalonia, the feudal wars coexisted with other larger enterprises, like those of conquest. They both corresponded to distinct levels of domination, of a regional or supra-regional scope. The new supra-regional military demands favoured the protagonism of county or royal power, “pacification” and the incorporation of new actors, who irreversibly broke the exclusive aristocratic control of military domination. The great military change in the mid-12th century led to the move from wars for local private property to another style orientated towards “seizing” wide territories from the hands of the enemy. A military capacity and leadership became necessary, one that the feudal aristocracy was unable to offer due to its dynamics. Military efficiency, reached with new measures encouraged by the County of Barcelona, favoured the political consolidation of the Count at the head of a conglomerate of dominations, and over other aristocratic leaders who were very active until the mid century. Warfare was an essential demonstration of power, not so much as a derivation of politics, but more as a motor or stimulus of new social and political realities. However, attention to the various levels of military and political domination offers a complex image of 12th-century Catalan political history with a plural reality, which is a counterpoint to historiographic readings with statist and presentistic approaches. These approaches have resulted in narratives that have oversized the political entity of the power of the Count of Barcelona, offering an ascendant lineal image of the formation of a feudal “state”. In fact, the struggle for private ownership and appropriation prevailed, but these wars actually favoured political developments aimed at achieving maximum efficiency and military domination.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 163-189 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.07

THE CATALAN-ARAGONESE EXPEDITION TO TOULOUSE AND THE submission OF NICE AND FORCAUQUIER (1175-1177): A BEFORE AND an AFTER IN THE COURSE OF THE GREAT OCCITAN WAR

Pere Benito i Monclús Universitat de Lleida Spain

Date of receipt: 24th of September, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 11th of February, 2015

Abstract

The paper offers a historiographical revision of one of the less known episodes of the Great Occitan War: the expedition led by Alfonso the Cast in 1175 against the county of Toulouse. This action took place before a huge military campaign finished in 1177 with the submission of Niza and the county of Forcauquier, and it was a turning point in the Great Occitan War according its characteristics, duration and geographical extension (which was similar to the entity and duration of the campaigns that James I held in Mallorca and Valence in 13th century), as well as its territorial and politico-administrative incidence in the Crown of Aragon1.

Keywords

Great Occitan War, Alfonso the Cast, Crown of Aragon, Toulouse, Nice, Forcauquier.

Capitalia Verba

Magnum Bellum Occitanum, Ildephonsus Castus, Corona Aragonum, Tolosa, Nicaea, Fourcauquier.

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1Faray chanzo ans que veinha·l laig tems, pus en Tolsa nos n’anam tuit essems. A Deu coman tot cant reman de zay: ploran m’en part, car las domnas am nems. Tot lo païs, de Salsas tro a Trems, salv Deus, e plus cel on midons estai. Ponç de la Guàrdia, cansó IV2

1. The Great Occitan War2

By Great Occitan War I understand the conflict from 1112 to 1198 between the county seats of Barcelona and Toulouse for political and economic hegemony over some of the most prosperous territories and lordships of Languedoc and the coastal areas of Provence. This phrase, used in Catalan historiography since the 1960s,3 is not completely unknown in French historiography,4 which prefers however the name Grande Guerre Méridionale, coined by Charles Higounet in 1951, in an article that first recognised the historiographic entity of this war, and later spread by Pierre Bonnassie.5 With somewhat less success, French historiography has also used the terms Guerre de Cent Ans Méridionale and Guerre de Cent Ans du XIIe siècle.6

1. Used abbreviations: ACA, Archivo de la Corona de Aragón; ADBR: Archives départementales des Bouches-du-Rhône; ADPO, Archives Départementales des Pyrénées-Orientales. 2. “I will do a song before the bad times arrive, as we are all on our way to the country of Tolouse. Those who stay here, I entrust you to God. I leave with tears in my eyes, because I love the ladies deeply. God save all the country [Catalonia], from Salses to Tremp, and especially the land where my lady lives.” Frank, István. “Pons de la Guardia, troubadour catalan du XIIe siècle”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 22 (1949): 296-297. 3. In a more restricted chronological sense, it was first used by Jordi Ventura: Ventura, Jordi.Alfons el Cast. Barcelona: el primer comte rei. Barcelona: Aedos, 1961: 201-205. 4. Lafont, Robert. Trobar: XIIe, XIIIe siècles, soixante chansons de troubadours. Montpellier: Université de Montpellier III, Centre d’études occitanes, 1972: 148 and 203. Cassard, Jean-Christophe. “L’affaire de paix et de foi vue de Bretagne Armorique. Quelques notes d’hérésiologie virtuelle”, Religion et société urbaine au Moyen Âge: études offertes à Jean-Louis Biget par ses anciens élèves, Patrick Boucheron, Jacques Chiffoleau, dirs. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2000: 160. 5. Higounet, Charles. “Un grand chapitre de l’histoire du XIIe siècle. La rivalité des maisons de Toulouse et de Barcelone pour la prépondérance méridionale”, Mélanges d’histoire du Moyen âge, dédiés à la mémoire de Louis Halphen. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1951: 313-322. About « la Grande Guerre Méridionale », see also Abadal, Ramon d’. “À propos de la domination de la maison comtale de Barcelone sur le Midi français”. Annales du Midi, 76 (1964): 315-346; Bonnassie, Pierre. “L’Occitanie un État manqué?”. L’Histoire, 14 (1979): 31-40; Bonnassie, Pierre. “Le comté de Toulouse et le comté de Barcelone du début du IXe au début du XIIIe siècle (801-1213): esquisse d’une histoire comparée”, Actes del Vuitè Col·loqui Internacional de llengua i literatura catalanes. Tolosa de Llenguadoc, 12-17 de setembre de 1988. Barcelona: Publicacions de l’Abadia de Montserrat, 1989: I, 41-43; Macé, Laurent. Les comtes de Toulouse et leur entourage: XIIe-XIIIe siècles: rivalités, alliances et jeux de pouvoir. Toulouse: Privat, 2003: 23, 98. 6. Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne, XIe-XIIe siècles. Serments, hommages et fiefs dans le Languedoc des Trencavel. Toulouse: Presses Universitaires du Mirail, 2003: 72.

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From its origins, the Great Occitan War was a complex supra-regional conflict between the counts of Barcelona and kings of Aragon, and the Counts of Toulouse for a whole swathe of territory including sovereignty over the viscounties of Trencavel (Carcassonne, Razès, Agde and Béziers), the County of Melgueil (nowadays Mauguio) with its rights to mint coinage, the lordship of the city of Montpellier, and sovereignty over Provence Maritime and the accompanying heritage (the viscounties of Millau, Gévaudan and Carladez) and the county of Forcalquier. The roots of the struggle dated back to the agreements of 1067-1071 under which the Counts of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer I and Almodis, acquired the counties of Carcassonne-Razès. This complex operation laid the foundations for the so-called Catalan expansion in Occitania and led to the rupture of the traditionally friendly relations between Toulouse and Barcelona.7 The marriage of the Count of Barcelona Ramon Berenguer III and Countess Douce, heiress to Provence Maritime and the viscounties of Millau, Gévaudan and Carladez, and the resulting incorporation of these territories into the domains of the House of Barcelona in 1112, sparked off the almost permanent war between Barcelona and Toulouse that lasted until 1198. This Catalan diplomatic success unleashed the wrath of Alphonse who, as Count of Saint-Gilles, claimed sovereignty over all historical Provence (Maritime Provence, the county of Forcalquier and the Marquisate or inland Provence). The 1125 treaty of division of Provence, that recognised his sovereignty over the lands west of the Durance, did not appease the aspirations of the Count of Toulouse to seize the coastal part of the county.8 From the start of the conflict, the Counts of Barcelona enjoyed the unconditional support of the viscounts of Narbonne and the Guilhems, lords of Montpellier, while the Count of Toulouse controlled the counts of Melgueil and the viscounts de Nîmes and had two important external allies: the powerful lineage of the Baux who, since the incorporation of maritime Provence into the county of Barcelona, had been struggling for their rights of succession over the county of Provence to be recognised; and the city of Genoa, in open war with Pisa and Barcelona for control over the Provençal coast since 1160. The Trencavels, Viscounts of Carcassonne-Rasès and Agde-Béziers, and the Counts of Foix swung between submission to Toulouse and recognition of the sovereignty of Barcelona, depending on the circumstances and

7. Débax, Hélène. La féodalité Languedocienne...: 71. About the purchasing of Carcassone-Rasès, see: Cheyette, Fredric L. “The Sale of Carcassonne to the Counts of Barcelona (1067-1070) and the Rise of the Trencavels”. Speculum, 63 (1988): 826-864; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité Languedocienne...: 58-71; Ammannati, Giulia. “Saint-Victor di Marsiglia e la sua espansione nell’area pirenaica. Tre lettere della seconda metà del sec. XI”. Studi Medievali, 48 (2007): 3ª serie, fasc. I: 55-59; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca de Barcelona i de la Corona d’Aragó: guerra, política i diplomàcia (1067-1213)”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa, Manuel Riu, Maria Teresa Ferrer, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: 20-28. 8. Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 175-195; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 40-44.

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the varying correlation of forces, in what Ramon d’Abadal and Hélène Débax have called a selfish policy of equidistance.9 From the mid 12th century, the Great Occitan War spread and became more intense. In 1152, the marriage between Henry II Plantagenet and Eleanor of Poitou, cousin of Queen Petronilla and heiress of Aquitaine, set the bases for the alliance that Ramon Berenguer IV and Henry II Plantagenet sealed six years later with the marriage of their children, Eleanor and Richard the Lionheart.10 The Crown of Aragon and the Kingdom of England then began a long period of friendship and alliance that, with ups and downs, lasted until the reign of Ferdinand the Catholic.11 Raymond V of Toulouse responded to the Anglo-Aragonese coalition in 1154 by sealing an alliance with the House of Capet through his marriage to Constance, sister to Louis VII of France.12 Then, as an extension of the Great Occitan War, a forty-year war (from 1156 to 1196) began between the Plantagenet and the Counts of Toulouse and their respective allies in two different scenarios: Aquitaine and Limousin.13 If that were not enough, from 1143, Genoa entered into the scene, initially privateering against Provençal and Catalan interests and signing treaties of alliance in 1171 and 1174 with Toulouse to make war against Barcelona with the aim of taking over the Provençal littoral.14 Thus, this second phase of the Great Occitan War saw two large blocks of alliances. On one hand, there was the Crown of Aragon and Angevin Empire and on the other, the County of Toulouse, France, the Republic of Genoa and the Empire —after the fall of Milan in 1162 Frederick Barbarossa intervened in Provence and, from 1174 onwards, supported the Baux.15 The end of the Great Occitan War came in the context of the new order that arose from the Treaty of Louviers (14th July 1196) under which Phillip II of France and Richard I of England divided their respective spheres of expansion, leaving the domains of the Count of Toulouse under French influence.16

9. Abadal, Ramon d’. “La dominació de la casa comtal de Barcelona sobre el Migdia de França”, Dels visigots als catalans. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1970: II, 301; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne...: 86- 97; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 1-I, 57. 10. Warren, Wilfred Lewis. Henry II. New Haven-London: Yale University Press, 1973: 85; Aurell, Martin. L’Empire des Plantagenêt. 1154-1224. Paris: Perrin, 2003: 25-27. 11. Soldevila, Ferran. Ramon Berenguer IV el Sant. Barcelona: Barcino, 1955: 14. 12. Débax, Hélène. “Stratégies matrimoniales des comtes de Toulouse (850-1270)”. Annales du Midi, 182 (1988): 142-143; Macé, Laurent. Les comtes de Toulouse...: 29. 13. Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War”. Historical Research, 61 (1988): 270; Martindale, Jane. “An Unfinished Business. Angevin Politics and the Siege of Toulouse, 1159”. Anglo-Norman Studies, 23 (2000): 115-154; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 58-59. 14. Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”, Actes du Ier Congrès historique Provence-Ligurie. 2-5 octobre 1964. Aix-Marseille: Federation Historique de Provence-Institut International d’Études Ligures, 1966: 112-116; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 65-72. 15. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 60-62, 79-80. 16. Alvira, Martín. El Jueves de Muret: 12 de Septiembre de 1213. Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 2002: 86-87.

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The basis for the alliance between Toulouse and Barcelona that put an end to almost 90 years of armed confrontation were set out at the conference in Perpignan in February 1198 between Raymond VI of Toulouse, Count Bernard IV of Comminges and Peter the Catholic.17 According to Higounet, the wedding, held in 1204, of Peter the Catholic to Marie of Montpellier, who had married Bernard IV of Comminges two months before, was the main question agreed at this interview.18 On the other hand, an agreement signed in September 1198 between the city of Genoa and Peter the Catholic ended the confrontation between the Ligurian republic and Barcelona for hegemony over the Occitan coast.19 In another meeting in Perpignan in November 1202,20 Raymond VI of Toulouse, widower of Joan of England, promised to marry the young Eleanor, Peter the Catholic’s sister,21 an alliance that the historians of the Albigensian Crusade would not hesitate to present as a stratagem by the Count of Toulouse to place his domains under the protection of the King of Aragon.22 Up to here is a necessarily brief introduction to a long and complex conflict, which, beyond the strict limits of historiography about Catalan expansion in Occitania23 and southern French historiography,24 still lacks general recognition in proportion to the historical importance of the war. The lack of an overall perspective of the conflict, a consequence of the fragmented Occitan historiography, and the dominant tendency to structure the discourse on the construction of the kingdom of France around the concentric process of unification led by the Capets, explains why, unlike the Hundred Years’ War, the Grande Guerre Méridionale has yet to find its place in the general political histories of France.25

17. ADPO Serie B, 8. 18. Higounet, Charles. Le comté de Comminges. De ses origines à son annexion à la couronne. Toulouse: Private, 1949: 79-82 and 85. 19. I Libri Iurium della Repubblica di Genova. Rome: Ministero per i beni culturali e ambientali, 1992-2002: I/2, 71-74 (doc. No. 299); Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: I/1, 449-452 (doc. No. 140); Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”...: 129; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa amb els estats italians en els segles XI-XII”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: I/1, 220-223. 20. Laborie, Florent. Les itinéraires du roi Pierre II d’Aragon (1196-1213): tentative d’approche cartographique. Mémoire de maîtrise, Laurent Macé, dir. Toulouse: Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail, 2005: I, 63-64. 21. According to Guilhem of Puylorens, in Perpignan, the widowed count Raimon VI of Toulouse agreed to marry Eleanor, Peter the Catholic’s sister. As the princess was stil young, the mariage did not take place until January 1204 (Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc. Toulouse: Privat, 1872-1904: VI, 190). 22. Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte. Mariage et pouvoir en Catalogne (785-1213). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1995: 385. 23. For the historiography of the expansion, see: Aurell, Martin. “Autour d’un débat historiographique: l’expansion catalane dans les pays de langue d’oc au Moyen Âge”, Montpellier, la Couronne d’Aragon et les pays de langue d’Oc (1204-1349). Actes du XIIe Congrès d’histoire de la Couronne d’Aragon. Montpellier, 26-29 septembre 1985. Montpellier: Societé Archéologique de Montpellier, 1987: 9-41. 24. See the bibliography cited in the footnote 4. 25. See, for example: Histoire de la France politique, Le Moyen Age: le roi, l’Église, les grands, le peuple, 481- 1514, Philippe Contamine, ed. Paris: Seuil, 2002: I.

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The aim of my contribution is not so much to rectify this lack, as to draw attention to the importance for the development of this conflict of a little-known episode: the expedition that Alfonso the Chaste personally led against the capital of the County of Toulouse in 1175. This event (the prelude to a wider military campaign that ended in 1177 with the incorporation of Nice and the county of Forcauquier) was a turning point in the course of the Great Occitan War and, by extension, of the expansion of the Crown of Aragon beyond the Pyrenees, both for its characteristics, duration and geographic scope (of a size and duration similar to the James I’s campaigns in Majorca and Valencia) and its territorial and political-administrative consequences inside the Crown of Aragon. Despite its importance, the Occitan campaign of 1175-1177 has remained practically unnoticed by the historiography for two fundamental reasons: one of a heuristic nature (the shortage and dispersion of sources) and another historiographic, the lack of an overall perspective of the course of the Great Occitan War mentioned above.

2. The Catalan-Aragonese expedition against Toulouse

The Catalan-Aragonese military expedition against Toulouse in 1175 is, in fact, one of the darkest episodes of the Great Occitan War due to the scarcity of sources, the difficulties of coupling the information from the narrative sources with the available documentary sources and the problems of dating documents from the Occitan area, especially the uncertainties about the style of counting the year of the Incarnation used by the authors.26 This latter problem is not, as it might seem, a scholarly or trivial question as it has a direct effect on the reconstruction of the sequence of events and, thus, on their interpretation.27 The three versions of the Gesta Comitum Barchinonensium mention a military expedition by Alfonso the Chaste that, on its way to meet the king of England, camped near Toulouse and caused widespread damage within the frontiers of the enemy county.28

26. The so-called Florentine style, mainly used in Catalan documents dated by the year of the Incarnation prior to 1349, coexists with the Pisan style, widespread in the Occitan area: Garrigues, Damien. “Les styles du commencement de l’année dans le Midi. L’emploi de l’année pisane en pays toulousain et en Languedoc”. Annales du Midi, 53 (1941): 237-270 and 337-362; Higounet, Charles. “Le style pisan. Son emploi. Sa diffusion géographique”. Le Moyen Âge, 58 (1952): 31-42; Rouillan-Castex, Sylvie. “De nouvelles datations languedociennes en style pisan”. Annales du Midi, 81 (1969): 313-319. 27. The uncertainty about the dating systems and styles used by the scribes, patent in the set of documents that make up the operation to purchase Carcassonne and Rasès (Cheyette, Fredric L. “The Sale of Carcassonne...”: 826-864; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne...: 58-71), generally affects the documents produced in the Occitan area during the Great Occitan War (Benito, Pere. L’expansió territorial...: 21, 66). 28. Cum Raimundo iam dicto comite Tolose quamplures seditiones semper dum visit habuit; et cum magnis exercitibus ante Tolosam hospitatus est, et multa ibi devastavit, transiens potenter per fines illos dum ad visendum regem Anglie perrexit, et ipse Raimundus comes nunquam ausus fuit per totam terram suam illum expugnare. Gesta comitum Barcinonensium, eds. Lluis Barrau, Jaime Massó. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 1925: 13-14;

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The identification of this episode in the sequence of events known about the Great Occitan War is problematic. Following Zurita, Devic and Vaissete suggested that the meeting between Alfonso and the English king would have occurred in 1181.29 After comparing the different versions of the Gesta Comitum, Martí de Riquer rejected this hypothesis and proposed an alternative meeting in Najac, in Rouergue, in April 1185 between Alfonso the Chaste and Richard the Lionheart. According to Riquer, this gathering was where the decision was adopted to launch a campaign against Toulouse, which Richard carried out in early 1186.30 Recently, in his edition of the Catalan version of the Gesta, Stefano Cingolani placed the campaign against Toulouse between the end of 1182 and beginning of 1183.31 In any case, we can accept as plausible a wide dating between 1180 and early 1186, a period when Alfonso the Chaste met the king of England or one of his sons, offered them help and intervened militarily in Aquitaine on at least three occasions. In 1181, he offered Henry II Plantagenet and his sons aid in their fight against the rebel Aquitainian nobility. Alfonso the Chaste and Viscountess of Narbonne met Prince Richard in Perigueux and, at the end of June, they joined forces to besiege the castle of Saint-Front. Shortly after, at the end of 1182, there was a split between the three Angevin princes. Henry the Young and Geoffrey Duke of Brittany allied with the two counts of Angoulême, the Viscount of Limoges and the Viscount of Turena against their brother, Richard Duke of Aquitaine. Henry II of England went to Limoges to make peace between his sons. However, Henry the Young rebelled with the backing of the Count of Toulouse, the Duke of Burgundy and King Phillip Augustus of France. To punish him, the English king again requested the help of Alfonso the Chaste and other allied princes who aided him in the siege of the Limoges, which surrendered on 24th June, and the castle of Hautefort, that capitulated on 1st July.32 Finally, in April 1185 or 1186,33 King Alfonso and Count Richard of Poitou met in Najac, in Rouergue, and signed an alliance against Toulouse. They both agreed to gather 200 armed knights to attack Raymond V. Count Richard renounced all his rights and pretensions over the domains of Roger and his brother Trecavel in favour of the king of Aragon and promised to return various castles held by the

Les “Gesta Comitum Barchinonensium” (versió primitiva), la “Brevis historia” i altres textos de Ripoll, Stefano Cingolani, ed. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2012: XIII, 7, 147. 29. Devic, Claude; Vaissette, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 94; Zurita, Jerónimo. Anales de la Corona de Aragón. Zaragoza: Diego Dormer, 1669: I, lib. II, cap. XXXIX, f. 84r. 30. Riquer, Martín de. “En torno a Arondeta de ton chantar m’azir”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 22 (1949): 218-228. 31. Gestes dels Comtes de Barcelona i Reis d’Aragó, Stefano Cingolani, ed. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2008: 120. 32. Devic, Claude; Vaissette, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 99-104; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 88. In April 1183, Alfonso I signed a document recognising the debt with the royal bailley in Perpignan, Bernat Sanç, in Béziers, “quando ego tendebam ad colloquium regis Anglie” (ACA. Cancillería, Alfonso I, perg. nº 340). 33. According to Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War”. Historical Research, 61 (1988): 279.

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kings of Castile and Navarre. With the support of the Catalan-Aragonese troops, Richard invaded the lands of Albigeois and Agenois and seized numerous castles.34 It is more problematic to link the episode narrated in the Gesta Comitum with the expedition the Alfonso the Chaste launched against Toulouse in September 1175, as on that occasion, as we shall see, there was no prior meeting or collaboration with the English king. The existence of this military campaign was first suggested by Charles Higounet,35 but the merit of having proved the hypothesis of this French historian corresponds to Agustí Altisent, who drew up a reliable proposal for dating from the scarce documentary sources that refer to it.36 According to Altisent, during the spring or summer of 1175, preparations were made for a large military expedition of Catalans and Aragonese and led personally by King Alfonso the Chaste. This set off at the end of September or the first days of October “towards Toulouse” (apud Tolosam).37 In October 1175, the royal army was in Savès, in Comenge, when Alfonso agreed to cede the fief over the Arán Valley to Count Centule III of Bigorre and to this wife, Mathilde of Baux, widow of the Viscount Peter II of Béarn. In exchange for this concession, the Count of Bigorre and his successors committed themselves to pay homage to the king of Aragon for their domains.38 Altisent’s interpretation of this pact is difficult to refute; on the way to Toulouse at the head of his army, Alfonso procured an ally in his rearguard and turned the county of Bigorre into a kind of defensive march against Raymond V.39 There is an undeniable link between the military expedition of 1175 apud Tolosam by Alfonso the Chaste and the aggressive military alliance that Count Raymond V had signed with the Republic of Genoa in 1174 with the purpose of taking over the

34. ACA. Cancillería, Alfonso I, perg. nº 387; Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, 417-418, doc. No. 121. For the context and contents of the treaty, see Devic, Fredic; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 114; Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War...”: 277-285. 35. Higounet, Charles. Le comté de Comminges...: 175-178. 36. Altisent, Agustí. “Poblet, Bernat d’Anglesola i dues expedicions militars d’Alfons el Cast”, Miscellanea Populetana. Poblet: Abadia de Poblet, 1966: 175-178. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition d’Alphonse le Chaste à Toulouse en 1175”. Annales du Midi, 79 (1967): 429-436. 37. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition...”: 430, cites the wills of Guerau, Pere Rocaverd’s father, volens ire in exercitu Tolose cum rege Aragonensis, on the 6th of September 1175 (ACA. Cancillería, Alfonso I, perg. nº 184), and Bernat d’Anglesola, who on the 24th of September, mandato regis, domini mei, prepared to follow him in exercitum ipsius, apud Tolosam (Santacana, Jaime. El monasterio de Poblet (1151-1181). Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1974: 617, doc. No. 159), as well as a later document, April 1180, in which the same Bernat d’Anglesola acknowledged having received two mules in exercitu Tolose from the monks of Poblet. To these, we must add the will of Hug, Viscount of Bas, volens pergere in hoste ac persequi inimicos domini nostri regis, written on the 28th of September of the same year (Montsalvatje, Francisco. Noticias Históricas. Olot: Imprenta de L. Bonet, 1889-1919: XI, 503-505, doc. No. 560). 38. Ravier, Xavier. Le cartulaire de Bigorre: XIe-XIIIe siècle. Paris: Comité des Travaux Historiques et Scientifiques, 2005: 45-46, doc. No. 26; Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: I-1, 377-378, doc. No. 92. About the scope of this enfeoffment, see: Reglá, Joan. Francia, la Corona de Aragón y la frontera pirenaica. La lucha por el Valle de Arán (siglos XIII-XIV). Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1951: I, 38 and II, 206, doc. No. 120. 39. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition...”: 431-432.

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County of Provence.40 However, it is probable that the decision to attack Toulouse in September 1175 responded to more direct and immediate reasons. The Second Chronicle of Béziers contains the news from some old annals from Toulouse according to which, in September 1176, the count of Toulouse led his army to tallar (lay waste) the city of Montpellier. This episode fits badly into the context after the Treaty of Jarnègues in April 1176. In contrast, it would have been coherent at two previous moments. The first of these was June 1172, when Raymond V, with the support of the Genoese fleet, besieged the city of Montpellier by land and sea, forcing Guilhem VII of Montpellier to recognise him as Count of Melgueil and pay homage to him for the profits he obtained from the coinage of Melgueil.41 The second possibility is September 1175.42 If, after the death of Guilhem VII in 1172 and with the support of Genoa under the treaty of 1174, Raymond V again led his army towards Montpellier to besiege the city and obtain the vassalage for the fief of Melgueil for his successor, Guilhem VIII, Alfonso the Chaste’s expeditionapud Tolosam would be the reply to this act. If Montpellier was again the spark that revived the discord between Toulouse and Barcelona, what were Alfonso’s reasons for leading his army against the former? Was it to besiege the capital of the county until it fell or as a show of force to oblige Raymond V to negotiate a lasting peace and thus to distance him from the Genoese alliance and his interests over Melgueil and Montpellier? The first objective, conquering the city and its county, was little short of a chimera, bearing in mind the balance of forces between the two sides during the second phase of the Great Occitan War. In view of later events, it seems more reasonable that Alfonso was pursuing the second aim, in other words, to create the conditions required for a new scenario of peace and stability in the region. Alfonso’s plans would also include attacking the domains of the Viscount Roger II Trencavel, Raymond V’s ally, as punishment for his betrayal. Roger Trencavel’s active participation on the side of the Count Raymond V of Toulouse against Alfonso is fully illustrated by both the homages various nobles of the region paid to him between 1173 y 117543 and by the fortification of his domains from Carcassès and Minervois after July 1174/1175.44 This support may have been decisive for holding back the advance of the royal army if we take into account that the forces of Toulouse had gone to Montpellier. Regarding the course of events, the documentary sources only show that between the end of October and early December 1175, the royal army had travelled between

40. I Libri Iurium della Repubblica di Genova: I/2, 231-244, docs. 362-363; Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”: 114-116; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 70-72. 41. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 66-67. 42. “El An. m c lxxvi, v dias a la issida de setembre, anec la ost de Tolosa, am lo comte, talar Monpeslier”. (“Seconde chronique”. Bulletin de la Société archéologique de Béziers, 3 [1839]: 85). 43. Dovetto, Joseph. Cartulaire des Trencavel. Analyse détaillée des 617 actes (957-1214). Carcassonne: Centre de recherches et d’information historiques des conferenciers de la Cite, 1997: 199-200. 44. Mahul, Alphonse. Cartulaire et archives des communes de l’ancien diocèse et de l’arrondissement administratif de Carcassonne. Paris: Didron, 1857-1882: V, 277.

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Comminges and Limoux, where the king signed a document, writing according to the style and forms of the Aragonese chancellery, that confirms the Aragonese participation in his army.45

3. The Treaty of Tarascon (february 1176)

Between December 1175 and February 1176, the date of the Treaty of Tarascon between Alfonso the Chaste and Raymond V of Toulouse, we loose track of the royal army in Languedoc. A document dated in Perpignan in November in the year 1174 of the Incarnation, which states that King Alfonso came from Aragon to meet the Count of Toulouse,46 would be the key for interpreting the documentary silence about the campaign if, instead of a Pisan (1173) or Florentine (1174) dating, we suppose it to have been written in November 1175 in the modern style. The meeting the document refers to would be the summit held in Mézous, near Montpellier, at which Count Raymond V of Toulouse swore an oath of protection to Guilhem VIII of Montpellier, before Alfonso the Chaste, the Archbishop of Narbonne, the Bishop of Maguelone and the Abbot of Aniane, among other relevant figures.47 According to Devic and Vaissete, under pressure from the king of England and behind the backs of the Genoese, at this summit the preparations and conditions were decided for the signing of a stable peace between Toulouse and Barcelona that put a definitive end to the alliance between Toulouse and Genoa of April 1174 and thus, the aspirations of that naval power to win control of the Provençal coast.48 There is no doubt that the peace agreed on 18th April 1176 was not the result of improvisation. In a scenario chosen for its symbolism, the island in the Rhône called Jarnègues, in the lower part of the town of Tarascon, and before a large political, noble and ecclesiastic representation from Catalonia, Aragon and Provence, King Alfonso and Count Raymond V of Toulouse swore an agreement reached previously thanks to the good offices of the Templar master Hugues Geoffroi, who had been helped by Ramon de Montcada, son of the deceased Great Seneschal, Guiu Guerrejat of Montpellier and Arnau de Vilademuls, on the Aragonese king’s side, and the Viscountess Ermengarde of Narbonne, Ismidon of Paute and constable Guilhem of Sabran, for the count of Toulouse.

45. ACA. Cancillería, Alfonso I, perg. nº 187. 46. In November 1174, in Perpignan, Alfonso II ceded the hospital of Larsac situated in the viscounty of Millau (Rouergue) to the priory of Santa Maria de Cassià (Béziers): “Actum est hoc apud Perpinianum, mense novembris, anno Dominice Incarnationis MCLXXIIII, cum scilicet dominus rex, veniens de partibus Aragonie, ad colloquium comitis Raimundi tendebat” (Devic Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VIII, cols. 286-287, doc. No. 13.-XIII, II). 47. Archives Municipales de Montpellier. AA 1. Liber instrumentorum memorialium, f. 35v; Liber instrumentorum memorialium, ed. Alexandre Germain. Montpellier : Société archéologique de Montpellier « Jean Martel », 1884-1886: 153-154, doc. No. 81. 48. Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 62.

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Forcalquier COUNTY OF Peille Avignon forcalquier La Turbie (june 1176) Peillon ALBÍ Nice Toulouse Grasse

(december COUNTY OF 1174/1175) provence COUNTY OF Dragvignon toulouse BEZIERS Montpellier (october 1175) (december 1176) CARCASSONA

Limoux COMMINGES (december 1175) NARBONNE FOIX RAZES ARAN VALLEY ROUSSILLON MEDITERRANEAN SEA

PALLARS

EMPÚRIES- PERALADA

URGELL

COUNTY OF BARCELONA

Barcelona

Escale: Base map: Pere Benito, Esther Redondo 201

Mape 1: Campaign itinerary of Alphonse the Chaste in Languedoc and Provence (1175/1176) 202 Pere Benito

Under this treaty,49 Raymond V renounced all the rights that he could claim over the County of Provence and the Viscounties of Millau, Gévaudan and Carladez. In exchange, Alfonso II agreed to compensate him with 3,100 silver marks, and to do so, pawned the castle of Albaron —in Raymond V’s power since before 1167— and the islands of the Camargue and Loubières in front of Tarascon.50 In second place, the parties confirmed and ratified the 1125 division of Provence between Ramon Berenguer III and Alphonse Jordan, except that the King and the Count reciprocally swore to maintain the status quo in the territories under dispute, namely, the Viscounty of Gévaudan, held by the former, and the County of Melgueil and the castle of Albaron, under the control of the latter, so that each would possess what he already had and, in the future, any differences over these territories would be solved peacefully by arbitration and written agreements. In summary Alfonso tacitly renounced all rights over Languedoc derived from its purchase by Ramon Berenguer I, in other words, the domains of the Trencavels (Carcassonne, Razès, Béziers, Agde and Nîmes) and the County of Melgueil, effectively under the sovereignty of Toulouse since 1172,51 and, in contrast, he strengthened his domain over the County of Provence and the Viscounties of Millau, Carladez and Gévaudan.

4. The submission of Nice and Forcauquier (1176-1177)

Apparently, the expedition of autumn 1175 had reached its objectives; however, after the signing of the peace treaty in Tarascon in February 1176, the royal army did not return to the Crown’s territories south of the Pyrenees. Alfonso II had decided to make the most out of that costly military campaign and, together with his brothers, Ramon Berenguer and Sanç, and the great

49. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions...: 1-I, 378-380, doc. No. 93. Commented by Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 68 and VII, 10-11; Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 167-168; Abadal, Ramon d’. “La dominació de la casa comtal de Barcelona...”: 302. 50. Territories that Bourrilly and Busquet suggest were in the power of Raymond V: Bourrilly, Victor- Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age. Histoire Politique. L’Église. Les Institutions (1112-1481). Marseille: Barlatier, 1924: 25. 51. The Treaty of Tarascon anulled Bertran Pelet’s donation of the County of Melgueil to the King of Aragon. In September 1176 (1175 in the Pisan style), shortly before her death, Ermessende of Melgueil bequeathed the county to her husband Raymond V and his sons, confirming the donation on the 12th of December 1172 (1171 in the Pisan style). (Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 69). Although Melgueil remained under the effective control of Toulouse between 1172 and 1211 (Germain, Alexandre. Étude historique sur les comtés de Maguelone, de Substantion et de Melgueil. Montpellier: Société archéologique de Montpellier, 1854: 62-63), the dispute over this territory, one of the main battlegrounds in the Great Occitan War between Toulouse and Barcelona, continued throughout the 1180s.

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master of the Temple Hugues Geoffroi, he headed for eastern Provence, with the aim of taking Nice, the rebel city where Count Ramon Berenguer III of Provence had been killed in 1166.52 To ensure the success of the operation, in April of that year, he signed an alliance with Manfredo, Marquis of Busca, to whom he granted the fief over Drola (a valley of Aosta), on the edge of Lombardy,53 and gathered the support of some places that were Nice’s enemies, including Peille, Peillon and Turbie.54 In June 1176, he confirmed the consular privileges of Grasse and the rights of the Bishop of Antibes, his great ally in the fight against the lords of that town.55 From there, he rode at the head of his forces to the mouth of the Var, camping barely two miles from the city walls. This was where the consuls of Nice came with a proposal for an agreement that essentially meant recognising the sovereignty of the Counts of Provence over the city in exchange for confirming the consular institutions of Nice. The result was far from being the treaty between equals that the historiography of Nice has wished to portray this agreement of 1176 as.56 With the definition of querimonias, the king fined the consuls 25,000 Genoesesolidi and the obligation to pay him another 10,000 solidi a year as alberga. Moreover, to avoid future revolts, the city militia was integrated into the royal forces to serve the Catalan- Aragonese interests in Provence, the city had to contribute 100 horsemen to the cavalry raid that the king undertook from the Var to the Siagne, and 50 men to his cavalcade to the Rhône.57 The document was ratified by the king’s two brothers, the Catalan and Aragonese nobles who accompanied them, the masters of the Temple and the Hospital of Nice, the city’s consuls and the Lords of Castellane and Grasse, two towns that depended economically on both trade with Nice and the Italian cities and with Sant-Honorat de Lérins, a friendly monastery protected by the counts of Barcelona, to which Jordi Ventura attributes an decisive influence in the signing of this agreement.58 Once Nice had been integrated into the Crown and with the royal army still in Provence, Alfonso II considered it the ideal moment to annex the County of

52. Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”: 104-111; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 62. 53. ACA. Cancillería, Liber Feudorum Maior, f. 87d-88a. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, 380-381, doc. No. 94. Zurita, Jerónimo. Anales de la historia...: I, lib. II, cap. 34. 54. Who were later compensated with the confirmation of their consular institutions. Gioffredo, Pietro. Storia delle Alpi Marittime, Monumenta Historiae Patriae. Turin: Augusta Taurinorum, 1839: 26, col. 454. 55. ADBR, Tresor de chartes des comtes de Provence, B 288, YYY; Aurell, Martin. “L’éxpansion catalane en Provence...”: 181. 56. Jean-Pierre Papon. Histoire Générale de Provence. Paris: Moutard, 1778: IV, II, 252-253. Toselli, Jean Baptiste. Précis historique de Nice depuis sa fondation jusqu’en 1860. Nice: 1867: I, 35. 57. Archives Municipales de Nice. AA, 1/01; ADBR. Trésor de chartes des comtes de Provence. B, 287, 10 A. Gioffredo, Pietro. Storia delle Alpi Marittime: 26, col. 451-452; Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, 381-382, doc. No. 95. 58. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 168-169.

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Isera Roina

COUNTY OF Forcalquier

Orange COUNTY OF Provence Sault (september 1177/1178) Fourcalquier Avignon Apt Villemus Reillanne Lincel Montfuron Menasque Tarascon Grasse Pertais Nice Arles Montpellier

Aix-en- Provence

1:1500000 MEDITERRANEAN SEA

Base map: Pere Benito, Esther Redondo

Mape 2: Campaign itinerary of Alphonse the Chaste in Forcauquier (1177/1178).

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Forcauquier. His sovereignty over this area was recognised in theory by an imperial privilege awarded to the Count of Provence, Ramon Berenguer III in 1162 by Frederick Barbarossa.59 However, this had not only no practical consequences but rather a later imperial investiture awarded by the Emperor Barbarossa to Count Guilhem IV in 1174 had annulled this right.60 Having decided to recover the lost sovereignty, in 1177, Alfonso II sent Hugues de Baux and Raimon de Vilanova to demand that Count Guilhem IV of Forcauquier pay him homage reminding him about the emperor’s enfeofment of the county to Count Ramon Berenguer III of Provence. As could be expected, the Count rejected the ambassadors declaring that he owed allegiance only to the emperor’s jurisdiction in virtue of the imperial precept of 1174 that revoked the investiture of 1162. On Guilhem IV’s refusal to recognise Provençal sovereignty over Forcauquier, Alfonso the Chaste responded by organising a large army that crossed the Durance and seized Pertús, then advanced through the interior of the county and took various strongholds near the capital.61 The King’s rapid intervention divided the county nobility, and the prelacy and nobles who remained loyal to the Count advised him to abandon the fight and recognise Provençal sovereignty. The mediation of the ecclesiastical hierarchies of the bishopric was the key to reaching an agreement on principles that put an end to the hostilities and to avoid more than likely defeat of the garrison that had remained loyal to the count. Guilhem IV agreed to submit to the count of Provence, swear allegiance and loyalty to him and to be his friend and ally. Meanwhile, Alfonso I relinquished any reprisals against the lords who had taken the side of the Count of Forcauquier. The two rulers agreed to avoid provoking any war in the future and accorded a meeting in a city on the edge of the counties of Provence and Forcauquier to confirm the agreement on pacification and to set the form of homage and the amount of the damage caused by​​ the King’s troops on the lands of Guilhem IV. The place chosen for the summit was the castle of Sault. There, in September 1177/1178, Alfonso the Chaste and Guilhem IV ended reducing the conditions of the concord: the king agreed that the count of Forcauquier could pay him homage by proxy, while the later condoned the sovereign for the losses suffered during the war. Shortly after, Guilhem IV sent a procurator to Alfonso the Chaste who, in a solemn ceremony presided over by Hugues de Baux and his son Raymond, paid

59. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 61-62. 60. ADBR. Trésor de chartes des comtes de Provence. B 287, R7. Tournadre, Guy de. Histoire du comté de Forcalquier (XIIe siècle). Paris: August Picard, 1930: 78-79. Fournier, Paul. Le royaume d’Arles et de Vienne (1138-1378). Étude sur la formation territoriale de la France dans l’est et le sud-est. Paris: Alphonse Picard, 1891: 59. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 77-78. 61. According to Nostradamus, Columbi and Ruffi, the expedition was in 1178 (which could correspond to 1177 according to the Pisan calculation). Nostradamus, Caesar de. Histoire et chronique de Provence. Lyon : Sim. Rigaud, 1614: 146-147; Columbi, Giovanni. Opera Varia: Guillelmus Junior, comes Forcalquerii. Lyon: Canier, 1662; Ruffi, Antoine de.Histoire des comtés de Provence. Aix: Chez Jean Roize, 1655: 79. Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 26, they put the campaign of Forcauquier before the spring of 1177.

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him homage and declared that the county of Forcauquier depended on the county of Provence.62

5. Final reflections: Thec rown of Aragon after the campaigns of 1175-1177

Although a wide survey of the political and administrative consequences of the campaigns of 1175-1177 on either side of the Pyrenees would be necessary, we can present two of the most evident and immediate ones, namely the reinforcing of the king’s personal power over the ultra-Pyrenean domains, especially in the case of Provence, and the zenith reached in the ultra-Pyrenean territorial expansion of the Crown of Aragon. After the successful campaigns of Nice and Forcauquier, in December 1178 Alfonso the Chaste entrusted the counties of Provence, Gévaudan and Rouergue to his brother Ramon Berenguer IV, while keeping direct domain over the strategic castles of Tarascon and Albaron, half the seigneuriage of Provence, the town of Millau, and the power of absolute rule when he was in person in Provence, Rodez and Gévaudan. Count Ramon Berenguer IV agreed not to do or sell anything without the advice and consent of the king and renounced what he had inherited from his father (in other words, the Counties of Carcassonne, Rasez and Cerdanya (1162)) while he was entrusted with the county of Provence.63 This delegation of political power over Provence was complemented with a delegation of Provençal economic affairs through the figure of the royal procurator Guiu Guerrejat, brother of Guilhem VII of Montpellier, the appointment of local bailiffs and the transfer of the capital from Arles to Aix64. Situated at a crossroads, this little town was a strategic point from where the king could carry out his policy of expansion into coastal and eastern Provence, crush the revolts of the Alpine nobles and neutralise the growing power of the coastal cities. The proximity of Aix to Marseille further allowed Alfonso I and his brothers to keep a close watch on the latter and keep its patriciate, hostile to county power, under control.65 At the end of 1178, Alfonso II personally ruled a vast conglomerate of territories that, to paraphrase Roger of Hoveden, extended on the coast from the Montsià

62. Tournadre. Guy de. Histoire du comté de Forcalquier (XIIe siècle)...; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 78-79. 63. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, doc. No. 97; Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 27. 64. Ripart, Laurent. “Les bayles de Provence: genèse d’une institution princière”, De part et d’autre des Alpes. Les châtelains des princes à la fin du Moyen Âge, Guido Castelnuovo, Olivier Mattéoni, dirs. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2006: 71. 65. Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 186-187; Aurell, Martin. “Els fonaments socials de la dominació catalana a Provença sota Alfons el Cast (1166-1196)”. Acta Historica et Archaeologica Mediaevalia, 5-6 (1984): 104-106.

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mountains, south of Tortosa, to Nice.66 The project to conquer Provence defined by the 1125 treaty of division had concluded with the submission of Nice and Forcauquier. Guilhem of Montpellier and the Viscountess of Narbonne remained vassals and loyal allies of Alfonso II. The Viscounts Roger of Béziers and Bernard Ato of Nîmes continued in the orbit of Toulouse, but the circumstances soon swayed them temporarily to submit to Barcelona (1179).67 The Kingdom of Aragon was extended inland to the frontiers with Navarre, and on the other side of the Pyrenees included Béarn (under Aragonese tutelage since 1154), Bigorre, Comminges and the Aran valley as feudatory territories, while Roussillon (1172) and the Pallars Jussà (1177) had been added as direct domains of the counts of Barcelona. Inside Occitania, the Provençal inheritance included the Viscounties of Millau and Gévaudan, Rouergue and half of Carladez, territories for which count Hugh of Rodez had been declared feudatory of the Count King (1167).68 In the south, Alfonso the Chaste’s campaign against Valencia and Murcia in 1172 had ensured the continuity of the payment of parias (tributes) from these two kingdoms, now under Almohad rule.69 Later, the Occitan campaigns of 1175-1177 did not mean, as could have been expected, relinquishing temporarily expansion in the Peninsula and Mediterranean nor an interruption of the expeditions. It was rather the opposite; they seem to have stimulated them.70 It is known, for example, that around February 1176, the King proposed conquering the Puig de Santa Maria and envisaged taking the city of Valencia.71 In June 1178, after the submission of Forcauquier, he revived the old project of conquering the Balearic Islands by agreeing with the Sicilian Count Alfonso to cede half of the isle of Majorca in compensation for his participation in the squadron of King William II of Sicily.72 In August 1177, he helped Alfonso VIII of Castile in the siege of Cuenca and in early 1179, after leading an expedition against Valencia and Murcia, he signed the Treaty

66. “Et in Hispania illa saracenica sunt quatuor reges principales: quorum unus dicitur rex de Cordres, id est Corduba.[...] Alter rex dicitur Gant; tertius dicitur rex de Murcia; quartus dicitur rex de Valencia. Et terra illius protenditur usque ad montem qui dicitur Muncian; et mons ille dividit terram paganorum a terra Christianorum, sicilicet terra regis Arragoniae; et terra regis Arragoniae incipit a monte illo qui dicitur Muncian, et protenditur ultra civitatem Nice. Et a civitate de Nice incipit terra imperatoris Romanorum...” (Hoveden, Roger of. “Chronica”, Chronica Magistri Rogeri de Houedene, ed. William Stubbs. London: Longmans, 1868-1871: 52, 4 vols.). 67. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 82-86. 68. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, doc. No. 86; Saige, Gustave; Dienne, Louis de. Documents historiques relatifs à la vicomté de Carlat. Monaco: Imprimerie de Monaco, 1900: II, 7-9, doc. No. 5; 22-23, doc. No. 10. 69. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 132. 70. I agree with Martín Alvira about the Occitanian, Peninsular and Mediterranean expansions of Alfonso the Chaste and his successor Peter the Catholic can’t be considered as excluding disjunctives because they were developed simultaneously. (Alvira, Martín. El jueves de Muret...: 578-579). 71. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 133. 72. Zurita, Jerónimo de. Anales...: lib. II, cap. 36; Miret, Joaquín. “Itinerario del rey Alfonso I de Cataluña, II en Aragón”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 2 (1903-1904): 404, that gives the reference “Varia 2 de Alfonso I, f. 66”.

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of Cazola with the Castilian monarch to divide the respective areas of expansion in the Iberian Peninsula.73 Although some of these objectives were not reached or were sidelined, there is no doubt that around 1180, Alfonso el Chaste was at the head of one of the most powerful armies in the West, a force capable of moving rapidly hundreds of kilometres in any direction, to serve the aims and interests of the Crown and, at the same time, to help allied monarchs in their own wars. This army, which helped the Plantagenet in Aquitaine in the 1180s, was a key piece of both the territorial expansion of the Crown on both sides of the Pyrenees and the strengthening of royal authority and power that is so clearly visible after 1178. Currently, the name “Emperor of the Pyrenees” that Antoni Rovira i Virgili attributed to the figure of Alfonso the Chaste at the height of his reign,74 has acquired unexpected historiographic relevance. It has been argued whether the Crown of Aragon was an empire at the high points of its territorial expansion or not.75 Given the above, there is no problem in accepting that around 1180, the area governed by the first monarch who simultaneously held the titles of King of Aragon, Count of Barcelona and Marquis of Provence, was a political structure similar to the so-called Plantagenet Empire: a construction made up of an amalgam of principalities and lordships, some of which, although theoretically within the frontiers of the kingdom of France and German Empire, acted with political independence and, willingly or by force, had accepted the sovereignty of the King of Aragon during the Great Occitan War in the legal framework of feudal relations.76 Around 1180, patrimonial domains governed directly by the king or, by delegation, one or other of his brothers, and vassal states were juxtaposed in a territorial mosaic that covered the north-western Mediterranean, from the Montsià (range) to Nice. The prestigious arms of the king of Aragon began to tinge the ensigns of his patrimonial domains with gold and gules77 and to be adopted,

73. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 179-182, 192-195. 74. Rovira, Antoni. Historia Nacional de Catalunya. Barcelona: Edicions Pàtria, 1922-1934: IV, 426 (7 vols); Sobrequés, Santiago. Els grans comtes de Barcelona. Barcelona: Vicens Vives, 1961: 90; Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 270-271. 75. For this question, see: Hillgarth, Jocelyn N. “El problema del imperio catalano-aragonés, 1229-1327”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 10 (1980): 145-159; Aurell, Martin. “Autour du débat historiographique...”: 33; Alvira, Martín. El jueves de Muret...: 72-73, 166-169. 76. The parallels with the empire of the Plantagenet are evident. For the use of the term empire in reference to the domains of the Plantagenet and the historiographic debate it has provoked, see: Gilissen, John. “La notion d’empire dans l’histoire universelle”, Les grandes Empires (Recueils de la societé Jean Bodin). Brussels: Encyclopédique, 1973: XXXI, 808; Aurell, Martin. L’Empire des Plantagenêt. 1154-1224...: 9-12 and 290. 77. One of the oldest and best documented examples is that of Millau, in Rouergue. In 1187, Alfonso the Chaste granted the consuls of the city a privilege over the use of the royal subscription and arms in the municipal seal: “Concedimus namque sigillum commune consulibus et communi cum subscriptione nostra et sua, et eciam vexillum nostrum” (Figeac, Champollion. Collection des documents inédits sur l’Histoire de France. Paris: Imprimerie Royale, 1843: II). For the seal of Millau, see Framond, Martin de. “Aux origines du sceau de ville et de juridiction: les premiers sceaux de la ville de Millau”. Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes, 147 (1989): 87-122.

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by imitation, by some of the vassal territories,78 instilling a symbolic unity over all this vast political space. The campaigns of 1175-1177 were the climax of the expansion of the Catalan- Aragonese Crown north of the Pyrenees and the start of a stage of consolidation of unprecedented royal power over all his domains. The expedition to Toulouse and the submission of Nice and Forcauquier made Alfonso the Chaste one of the most powerful rulers in the West. After his army’s stunning victories, the king exploited the prestige and fame he had earned to consolidate his power over the local aristocracy, resuscitate old projects of territorial expansion, lend help to his allies, challenge the German emperor,79 and break with the Frankish legitimacy scrupulously maintained for over three hundred years.80

78. The county of Foix, for example. See Calicó, Francesc Xavier. “En torno al origen del escudo de armas de los palos llamados comúnmente barras”. Gaceta Numismática, 61 (1981); Menéndez, Faustino. “Palos de oro y gules”. Studia in Honorem Prof. M. de Riquer. Barcelona: Jaume Vallcorba (Quaderns Crema), 1991: IV, 669-704. 79. By not attending the coronation of Frederick Barbarossa as king of Burgundy, officiated over by the Archbishop of Arles in the church of Saint-Trophime on 30th July 1178. Fournier, Paul. Le royaume d’Arles...: 62-63; Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 26-27; Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 181. 80. Shortly after the death of Louis VII of France (18th September 1180), a provincial council of bishops meeting in Tarragona following a plenary court presided over by the king, decided to change the oficial cronographic system of Catalan documents, until then based on the calculation of the years of the reigns of the Frankish kings, for the system of the years since the Incarnation of Jesus, adopting what was known as the Florentine style. For the political connotations of this decision, see Zimmerman, Michel. “Les rapports de la France et de la Catalogne du Xe au XIIe siècle”, Mélanges de la Bibliothèque Espagnole. Paris 1977-1978. Madrid: Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores, 1982: 81-99; Zimmerman, Michel. “La datation des documents catalans du IXe au XIIe siècle: un itinéraire politique”. Annales du Midi, 93 (1981): 345-375.

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WAR AND TAXATION. THE SOLDADAS FROM THE REIGN OF ALFONSO VIII OF CASTILE TO THE 13TH CENTURY

Carlos Estepa Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas Spain

Date of receipt: 5th of September, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 18th of March, 2015

Abstract

This paper examines the issue of the soldadas (salaries or stipends) from the kingdom of Alfonso VIII onwards, focusing on the testimonies from chronicles, mainly the Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla and De rebus Hispaniae by Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada. The soldadas (stipendia) as cash payments for the knights (milites) are the key element to notice the narrow link between war and taxation. The matter should be framed in the wider question of the growth of royal taxation, which is very important yet in the kingdom of Alfonso VIII. One century later, the Rents from Sancho IV (1290-1292) allow us to deduce the large expanse of the soldadas, for instance in Andalusian cities, as well as the large amounts given to the main nobles (ricos hombres) to be shared among their men.

Keywords

Salaries, Chronicles, King, Knights, Higher nobility.

Capitalia Verba

Stipendia, Chronicae, Rex, Milites, Nobilitas Excellentior, Prima Nobilitas.

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Without resorting to the almost stereotypical expression that medieval Spanish society was a society for war, it is no less certain that war in its various manifestations was an essential element in it.1 Taxation was undoubtedly heavily conditioned by war, given the necessities that this generated and that affected especially the warriors or milites who made up the backbone of an army.2 The aim here is to tackle the subject of taxation and war, especially in the period coinciding with the long reign of Alfonso VIII of Castile (1158-1214), but also using later information to provide better knowledge of the interpenetration of war and taxation, while also applying a comparative analysis.

1. Royal taxation under Alfonso VIII

The reign of Alfonso VIII (1158-1214) was very important for the growth of royal taxation. This aspect and how the consolidation of certain tributes established the bases for the later development of taxation has been highlighted elsewhere.3 This is taken into consideration as the framework for this study. On the other hand, it seems timely to take the fact that war conditioned the development of royal taxation during this important reign as the starting point for this analysis. There is a problem of sources when studying the theme of war and taxation. Information from this epoch on fiscal aspects is usually scant. For example, among the 1,824 royal diplomas published by the Capet monarch Phillip Augustus (1180- 1223) only 101 contain details of economic value.4 Of the 957 valid diplomas from Alfonso VIII’s reign, there are 351, in other words slightly over a third, with some fiscal contents.5 This, which initially seems very important for this study, merits some comment. Among these, diplomas the most abundant are those that contain more or less general exemptions. There is a total of 142 such documents. They are most frequently used to know what the tax payments were, as the different charges were named when establishing an exemption. There are also numerous charters that contain an exemption from the portazgo (toll) (67), the payment of some benefit or tax (56) and

1. See the classic article by Lourie, Elena. “A society organised for war: Medieval Spain”. Past & Present, 35 (1966): 54-76. 2. For war in Christian Spain during the Early and High Middle Ages see Isla, Amancio. Ejército, sociedad y política en la Península Ibérica entre los siglos VII y XI. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa, Secretaria General Tecnica-Consejo Superior de Investigacion Cientificas, 2010; García Fitz, Francisco.Castilla y León frente al Islam. Estrategias de expansión y tácticas militares (siglos XI-XIII). Seville: Universidad de Sevilla, 2001; García Fitz, Francisco. Relaciones políticas y guerra. La experiencia castellano-leonesa frente al Islam. Siglos XI- XIII. Seville: Universidad de Sevilla, 2002. 3. Estepa, Carlos. “La construcción de la fiscalidad real”,Poder real y sociedad: estudios sobre el reinado de Alfonso VIII (1188-1214), Carlos Estepa, Ignacio Álvarez, José María Santamarta, eds. Leon: Universidad de León, 2011: 65-94. 4. Ehlers, Joachim. Geschichte Frankreichs im Mittelalter. Darmstadt: Wiss. Buchges, 2009: 143. 5. Estepa, Carlos. “Construcción...”: 89 (table).

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the granting of portazgos (46). Exemptions from military duty appear in 56 diplomas, but this, as we shall see in the case of the fonsadera,6 may not necessarily be linked to the theme under study here. There are concession of saltpans registered in 40 of the royal diplomas, general grants of royal income in 36 and concession on taxes in 32 of these documents.7 Still, the most important evidence for us comes from the eight diplomas that contain assignments of royal incomes, especially the diploma from 1173 (July, 30) regarding the stipendia (or soldadas) to the fratres of the Order of Santiago.8 However, the narrative sources offer us information about the stipendia or payments to warriors. We can mention the passages dedicated to these in the Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla and the De rebvs Hispaniae by Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada, both written during the reign of Ferdinand III, King of Castile from 1217 and King of León from 1230.9 Special mention must be made of a passage by Jiménez de Rada about what Alfonso VIII awarded to the foreign warriors who took part in the campaign that culminated in the battle of Las Navas de Tolosa on 16th July 1212. This is interesting but it contains enormous exaggerations and distortions, as the text implies that the Castilian king spent something like three and a half million gold maravedíes on this campaign, on only what was paid to the foreign crusaders. One should only take into consideration the qualitative aspects of evidence of this type, while it is also relevant to compare these with other cases of payments of large amounts. Jiménez de Rada’s work also contains other passages where the term stipendia is used. On describing the actions of the Aragonese troops under Alfonso I (1104- 1134) in León, contextualising their sacrilegious pillage, he tells us, “et licet incliti essent predis, tamen ceperunt deffecti pecunie stipendia minorari”.10 The term also appears when referring to the Abbot of Fitero who brought herds of cattle and flocks of sheep and many utensils to Calatrava “necnon et multitudinem bellatorum, quibus stipendia et uiatica ministrauit”.11 In both examples, stipendia is used in a technical sense for the payments to warriors, either by the king or another person who leads them. Moreover, in the second case, there is a distinction between this payment and the supply or granting of other goods necessary for the working of the army, here using the term viatico. On the other hand, there is a use of stipendia, in a general sense as a payment or salary, which has a wide meaning and that thus does

6. The fonsadera was a tribute or loan granted to the king for the purpose of enabling him to defray the expenses of a war. 7. As it is obvious that a document can contain more than one of the items presented in the whole. 8. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla en la época de Alfonso VIII. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1960: II, 307-308 (doc. No. 184). 9. Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla, ed. Luis Charlo. Cádiz: Universidad de Cádiz, 1984; Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebvs Hispanie sive Historia Gothica, ed. Juan Fernández. Turnhout: Brepols, 1987. Regarding to the translation we always used here that was done by Charlo Brea in mecioned work or that was done by Fernández Valverde in: Historia de los hechos de España, ed. Juan Fernández. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1989. 10. Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VII, chap. II. 11. Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VII, chap. XIIII.

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not necessarily always refer to military functions. Jiménez de Rada uses it for the masters from the nascent Estudio de Palencia:

...et magistros omnium facultatum Palencie congregauit, quibus et magna stipendia est largitus, ut omni studium cupienti quasi manna in os influeret sapiencia cuiuslibet facultatis.12

The evidence in Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada’s work denotes a use of the military stipendia in the epoch when he was writing, which would not necessarily have to apply to earlier epochs. However, in the mentioned cases it can be taken as fully valid in the sense that there really were such stipendia or cash payments in the times referred to. The news about a fall in these payments in the case of the Aragonese troops is very revealing, although it should be borne in mind that the emphasis is placed on explaining that that the great pillaging that the chronicler describes took place was due to the Aragonese. For Sánchez-Albornoz, there were assignments in stipendio datas13 in the Visigoth epoch, but it is very unlikely that these were earlier than the credit concessions that were seen later in Castile and León. Moreover, in any case, the stipendia we mention were payments in cash, so they were only possible if cash was available. It seems plausible to think that the development of the system of parias in the 11th century facilitated the phenomenon of the stipendiary payments or soldadas.14 In any case, military service by royal vassals from the Astur period meant that they would have received payments or soldadas. In Alfonso VIII’s charter to the Order of Santiago in 1173, the order was granted 5% of the stipends from the militibus and other vassals, so 2,5 by 50 auri, 5 by 100 auri.15 This not only shows an important grant to the privileged but also that, and this is what most interests us here, there was a system whereby the vassals of the nobility receiving soldadas in cash, registered here as milites and others.16 In my opinion, this system must already have been well consolidated to enable a precise figure to be set for the amount. On the other hand, we can ask if there were any link between the soldadas and the fonsadera. As is well known, the fonsadera was the tribute that replaced the provision of going to the fonsado, this being understood as the general obligation of free men

12. Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VII, chap. XXXIIII. 13. Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. El “stipendium” hispano-godo y los orígenes del beneficio prefeudal. Buenos Aires: Facultad de Filosofía y Letras, 1947; Estudios Visigodos. Rome: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1971: 253-375. 14. The parias are linked to the payments of soldadas in Grassotti, Hilda. Las instituciones feudovasalláticas en León y Castilla. Spoleto: Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 1969: II, 738 and following. 15....computationem de stipendiis quecumque militibus uel aliis uasallis meis erogauero, scilicet, de quinquaginta aureis, duos et dimidium, et de centum, quinque, et deinceps secundum huius computationem. 16. In reality, given that milites meant the whole nobility but especially its lower level, the others would be the highest level among the nobles.

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to join the host called by the King.17 Sánchez-Albornoz considered that this switch took place in the second half of the 9th century given that for this distinguished historian such a tribute appeared in documents from the 920s.18 However, these are falsifications. Thefonsadera does not appear in the Astur period and I am inclined to think that this change did not take place until the reign of Alfonso VI (1065-1109), it being then when we find the tribute known asfonsadera becoming generalised.19 With the appearance of the fonsadera, this would not be paid by the infanzones, the lesser nobility, and in general, those who were beginning to take the form of nobles, and these privileges would also extend to the caballería villana (non-noble cavalry). Regarding the military demands, we can say that while the nobles served the King as milites, other free men would pay the fonsadera. However, it should be noted that since the 12th century, there were abundant exemptions from paying the fonsadera for the men in non-royal lordships. With the appearance of the so-called señoríos de behetría lordships, the situation could arise that the men from these were exempt from the fonsadera, as their possible military duties were fulfilled by their lords and their knights known as deviseros, who fulfilled the military functions. This was reflected in theLibro Becerro de las Behetrías from 1352 and, with the same justification, the same was also said about the lordships of the Military Orders.20 All this leads us to assert that there was no relation between the payments of the soldadas and the fonsadera that the payment of the soldadas came from the fonsadera. Some specific circumstances must only be taken in consideration in the case of the caballería villana in the Extremaduras. Thus, the Crónica de la población de Avila, a text dating form the mid 13th century,21 contains a passage about the beginning of Alfonso X’s reign, in which it can be deduced that the knights of Ávila could receive part of the war tribute called fonsadera paid by those who did not join the host, part of which, in this case, was received by the monarch himself22 We can note even more clearly that the privilege

17. García de Valdeavellano, Luis. Curso de historia de las instituciones españolas. De los orígenes a la Baja Edad Media. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1968: 621-622. 18. Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. “El ejército y la guerra en el reino asturleonés”, Ordinamenti militari in Occidente nell’ alto Medioevo, XV Settimana di Spoleto. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto Medioevo, 1968: I, 293-428. 19. Estepa, Carlos. “En torno a la fonsadera y a las cargas de origen público”. Stvdia Historica. Historia Medieval, 30 (2012): 25-41. 20. Martínez, Gonzalo, ed. Libro Becerro de las Behetrías. Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 1981; Estepa, Carlos. Las behetrías castellanas. Valladolid: Junta de Castilla y León, 2003: I, 240-242. 21. Crónica de la población de Ávila, ed. Amparo Hernández. Valencia: Editorial Anubar, 1966. Sobre esta obra, Gautier-Dalche, Jean. “Fiction, réalité et idéologie dans le Cronica de la población de Avila”. Razo. Cahiers d’Etudes Médiévales, 1 (1979): 24-32. 22. E llegaron todos a Ellón, assí que ovieron y una carta del rey que se tornasen los moros a Avila, e quel diesen dos mill maravedís. E los cavalleros entendieron que seríe gran deserviçio del rey si se tornasen los moros, e entendiendo que el rey avíe menester los dineros, ovieron su acuerdo e embiaron a Gómez Nuñós e a Gonçalo Matheos al rey, que era en Vitoria, quel pidiessen merçed, quel pidiessen que los moros fuesen en su serviçio; e ya que los dineros mucho menester los avíe, que embiase luego a Avila a cojer la fonsadera de los que non pudieron venir en la hueste, e que abríe él luego los sus dineros. E en razón de aquellos dos mill maravedís, que le quitavan los caballeros la meatad de

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granted by Alfonso X to the councils of Extremadura in 1263, under which the caballeros villanos became direct and exclusive vassals of the king or the crown prince and had to receive an annual salary of 500 shillings as a vassal.23

2. The payment of salaries (soldadas) in the narrative sources

We now refer to the passages in the narrative sources that refer to the payment of salaries by Alfonso VIII, for the campaign of Las Navas. The most explicit text is the one transmitted by D. Rodrigo in chapter IV of book VIII of his Historia:

...Cum enim essent ultramontani plusquam decem milia equitum et centum milia peditum, unicuique militi dabantur omni die XXti solidos usuales, pediti uero Ve solidi; mulieres, paruuli, debiles et ceteri ad bellum inepti non erant ab hac gracia alieni. Hec erant que in comuni et publice donabantur, preter donaria priuata, que sui quantitate hunc numerum excedebant, que magnatibus non diurna distribucione, set pociori summa per nobilis regis nuncios mitebantur. Hiis muneribus cumulabatur equorum innumerosa generositas, pannorum iocunda uarietas, que omnia tenacitatis curua seueritas uultu propicio non poterat intueri. Hiis autem omnibus si iungantur regibus oblata donaria, suis distribuita stipendia, plus modus dantis et ylaritas meruit quam hiis omnibus emi possit. Et ad hec omnia, ne gens alienigena expedicionis omnibus indigeret, omnibus tentoria et eorum uehicula est largitus. Addidit etiam graciam gracie et cibariorum uehicula cum ceteris necessariis, LXa milia summas et ultra cum sumariis erogauit.24

As mentioned above, the amount that can be deduced from this description, and that would only be have been part of the amount paid out, would have been around three and a half million maravedies, a figure that which we can qualify, without any qualms, as impossible, as it would suppose a disproportionate numbers of fighters for a 13th-century army. As a comparison, we can state that in the Crusade in 1195- 1197, Emperor Henry VI (1190-1197) gave 30 ounces of gold (around 840 gr.) for each knight, as well as annual maintenance for this and two squires, and 10 ounces (280 gr.) for each foot-soldier, with annual maintenance. There were 1,500 knights

la fonsadera que ellos devíen aver, en que avríe muchos más dineros que estos, ca por savor de levar gran gente en la hueste non quissieron levar escusados ningunos (And they all arrived in Ellón, having received a letter from the king [saying that] the Moors were returning to Avila, and that they should give him 2000 maravedís. And the knights understood that it would be a great disservice to the king if the Moors returned, and understanding that the king needed the money, they come to an agreement and sent Gómes Nuñós and Gonçalo Matheos to the king, who was in Vitoria, to ask for his mercy, to ask that the Moors be in their service; and since he had great need of that money, that he might afterwards send them to Avila to collect the war tribute (fonsadera) from those who could not join the army and that he would afterwards have his money. And because of those 2000 maravedís, that the knights took half of the war tribute which they ought to have, whereby they would have much more money than this, because they brought many people in the army they did not want to let anyone excuse themselves) (Hernández, Amparo. Crónica de la población de Ávila: 47). 23. González, Manuel. Alfonso X el Sabio. Barcelona: Ariel, 2004: 160. 24. Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VIII, chap. IV.

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and if we calculate some 4,000 foot-soldiers, more acceptable figures, the payments rose to a total of 2,380 kg. of gold, equivalent to around 600,000 gold maravedies.25 A similar amount was the 100,000 silver marks initially demanded as a ransom for Richard I after his imprisonment by the Leopold V, Duke of Austria, and the Emperor Henry VI (1193) that were equivalent to about 20,000 kg of silver. It was later agreed to pay 150,000 marks (30,000 kg) of silver.26 The text I present from the Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla does not give the number of combatants or what each knight or foot-soldier received, but rather it gives a general description of the payments made and the soldadas received, as well as the payment of half the incomes of the clergy:27

Dum conuenirent nobiles et populi regis Castelle et regis Aragonum, cunctis, qui uenerant de Pictauia et de Vasconia et de Prouincia et de aliis partibus et ipsi regi Aragonum, expensas omnes nobilis rex Castelle sufficienter ministrabat. Ubi tanta copia auri effundebatur cotidie quam uix et numeratores et ponderatores multitudinem denariorum qui necessarii erant ad expensas poterant numerare.

Uniuersus clerus regni Castelle ad peticionem regni medietatem omnium redituum suorum in eodem anno concesserant domino regi. Preter stipendia cotidiana regi Aragonum multam sumam pecunie misit antequam ipse de regno suo exiret: pauper enim erat et multis debitis obligatus nec sine adiutorio regis Castelle potuisset militibus suis, qui eum sequi debebant, stipendia necessaria largiri.28

In these Crónicas, as well as the texts related to the Battle of Las Navas, we must also highlight some other points. Jiménez de Rada suggests that in 1217, on the death of Henry I and the crowning of Ferdinand III as king of Castile, royal income to pay soldadas was running out, so that Queen Berenguela had to resort to her wealth in precious metals and jewels:

Verum quia perturbatione huiusmodi obsistente regales redditus ad stipendia defecerunt, et regina nobilis quicquid habuerat in largicionibus dispensarat, ad argenti et auri et gemmarum donaria misit manum et queque ex talibus reseruarat in auxilium filii liberaliter erogauit...29

This passage that can be assessed as Jiménez de Rada wanting to extol the generosity of the queen, but it may not be very reliable regarding income and soldadas. However, it seems reasonable to suggest that it is proof that these were usually paid.

25. Jericke, Hartmut. Kaiser Heinrich VI., der unbekannte Staufer. Gleichen: Muster-Schmidt, 2008: 79. 26. Jericke, Hartmut. Kaiser Heinrich VI...: 59-62. 27. I have a different interpretation than Charlo Brea's Spanish translation. I think that we must understand populi as people; stipendia as soldadas and milites as waprins rather soldiers. 28. Charlo, Luis. Crónica Latina de los Reyes...: 28. 29. Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VIIII, chap. VII.

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On dealing with the clash between Alfonso VIII and Alfonso IX of León shortly after Las Navas, the Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla refers to the payment of soldadas (stipendia) to the nobles and the granting of great gifts (munera magna) to the magnates:

Exinde uero dirigens iter suum in partes Castelle, cum unicum et sumum desiderium esset ei claudere diem extremum contra Sarracenos pro exultatione nominis Iesu Christi, uidens quod rex Legionis prestaret magnum impedimentum illi tam sancto proponito tamque laudabili, stipendia multa dedit nobilibus et munera magna magnatibus, conuocauitque multitudinem populorum innumerabilem ut saltem metu perterritus rex Legionis pacem firmaret cum rege glorioso et, si nollet iuuare ipsum, saltem non impediret.30

3. The extension of royal taxation and the soldadas

If the payment of the soldadas to the nobles was important during Alfonso VIII’s reign (1158-1214), some observations about the development of taxation during that period must also be made. We can point out that the construction of royal taxation was feasible because in the 12th century saw a new economic base, an extension of the circulation of money, a monetisation that made it possible or facilitated not only commercial transactions but also the monarchy’s financial requirements being channelled through monetary paths. Until Alfonso VIII’s reign, the gold coins in circulation were the Almoravid dinars, which the Christians called morabetinos.31 These were imitated in the first minting of maravedies, precisely, during the 1170s, when the supply of this metal stopped because of the end of the parias paid by the so-called Wolf King of Murcia. A maravedi minted in 1185, according to the most recent research, has attracted a great deal of attention. On it the Castilian king is named Prince of the Catholics, an expression with clear Islamic influence.32 The privilege Alfonso VIII gave to the Order de Santiago in 1173 assigning 5% of the amount of the stipendia to the nobles is undoubtedly a clear symptom of this important monetisation, and there is also other evidence.

30. Charlo, Luis. Crónica Latina de los Reyes...: 37. 31. Gil, Octavio. Historia de la moneda española. Madrid: Diana, 1959: 198-199. 32. Schramm, Percy Ernst. “Das kastilische Königtum und Kaisertum während der Reconquista (11. Jahrhundert bis 1252)”, Festschrift für Gerhard Ritter. Tübingen: Mohr, 1950: 87-139 especially 130. The full text, written in Arabic, is, on one face The Prince of the Catholics, Alfonso, son of Sancho, let him be helped and protected by God and on the other The imam of the Chistian Church, the Pope of the old Rome. Schramm interpreted that this maravedi was from 1175, in line with Sánchez-Albornoz (Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. “La primitiva organización monetaria de León y Castilla”. Anuario de Historia del Derecho Español, 5 (1928): 301-345, and in Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. Estudios sobre las instituciones medievales españolas. Mexico: Universidad Nacional Autónomade México, 1965: 441-477 especially 472), but it has recently been dated from 1185, Francisco, José María de. “El maravedí de oro de Alfonso VIII: un mensaje cristiano escrito en árabe”. Revista General de Información y Documentación, 8/1 (1998): 283-301.

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Along with the cities and towns granted to her, Alfonso VIII’s pledge to his wife Leonor in 1170 included at least 5,000 coins per year from the incomes from Toledo.33 Under the treaty of Seligenstadt, signed on 23rd April 1188, the marriage between Alfonso VIII’s then heir, his daughter Berenguela, and Duke Conrad of Rothenburg, son of Emperor Frederick I Barbarrossa (1152-1190) was arranged. The dowry was set at 42,000 auri, in other words 42,000 gold maravedies.34 According to Alfonso VIII’s will, written in 1204, the Castilian monarch had very heavy debts.35 It is said that Queen Leonor owned a notebook listing the names of the creditors; the debt was 90,000 maravedies. It expressly mentions 18,000 maravedies that the executors had to pay to the almojarife Avomar. 6,000 had been paid and the other 12,000 was to be paid from the incomes from Toledo at a rate of 3,000 maravedies per year. From an analysis of the fiscal liabilities from 1109 to 1230, we deduce that the two main axes in the construction of royal taxation were the pecho (pectum) and the pedido (petitum).36 We identify the former as the pecho de marzo or marzazga, the first attempt to extend a royal tribute beyond the royal domains as an ordinary demand. It is another thing that the numerous exemptions, especially in the ecclesiastic lordships, made such a generalisation impossible, which would later become more effective through the martiniega (a tax paid on Saint Martin’s Day —11th November). On the other hand, the pedido was an extraordinary tax, that with time tended to become an ordinary tax and generally disappeared when Alfonso X (1252-1284) established the extraordinary services granted in the Courts.37 We have no data about the importance of the pecho and the pedido from the economic point of view. On the other hand, the many exemptions enables us to see how the vassals of ecclesiastic and lay lordships were not obliged to pay these tributes or that the tributes totally or partially passed to the lords. On this point, the idea that on occasions in the case of the pedido there was a dual distribution between the King and the lord seems acceptable. On the other hand, the tenants must also be taken into consideration as representatives of royal authority, receiving part of the rights generated in the tenures. The most important taxes for the royal treasury from the economic point of view were probably those from the rights related to the traffic in merchandise and its sale, which generally we usually call portazgos (tolls), as well as the rights of this nature and the urban incomes in the kingdom of Toledo, especially in the city itself, that

33. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: I, 192. 34. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: II, 857-858 (doc. No. 499). About this treatise: Rassow, Peter. Der Prinzgemahl, ein pactum matrimoniale aus dem Jahre 1188. Weimar: H. Böhlaus Nachfolger, 1950; Estepa, Carlos. “Concejos y monarquía en el reinado de Alfonso VIII: el pacto matrimonial de 1187-1188”, El historiador y la sociedad. Homenaje al profesor. Homenaje a José María Mínguez, Pablo de la Cruz Díaz, Fernando Luis Corral, Iñaki Martín Viso, coord. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 2013: 67-75. 35. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: III, 335-336 (doc. No. 765). 36. In the above-mentioned work by Estepa, Carlos. “La construcción de la fiscalidad...”. 37. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real en Castilla (1252-1369). Madrid: Editorial Complutense, 1993: 54.

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were encompassed under the term of almojarifazgos.38 These must have grown in importance in the 12th and 13th centuries. They contributed very significantly to the increase in royal resources. The money and services constituted in the mid-13th century as extraordinary contributions approved by the Court became the exclusive sources of royal taxation, demanded generally, both from those included in the royal domains and the vassals of the ecclesiastic and lay lordships and the señoríos de behetría. Logically, these would be vitally important for the assignment of soldadas and for what we can generally consider the financing of war through royal taxation. However, we must no forget other rights and incomes of the Castilian monarchy. The Rentas de Sancho IV from 1290-1292, edited and studied in detail by Francisco J. Hernández, area a valuable source.39 In these, the so-called rentas ciertas are made up of the royal incomes from martiniegas and rights, the tercias from the ecclesiastical tithes, the rights from saltpans and forges, the tributes from the Moorish and Jewish aljamas and the almojarifazgos.40 The first section, the so-called Rentas Reales, was basically made up of martiniegas and rights, with 1,879,522 maravedies of war money, 40.02% (of 4,695,860.5 maravedies) of the total of the Rentas Ciertas. Of this amount, 1,159,170 maravedies were for the area of the Crown made up of Castile (Las Merindades), Castilian Extremadura, the Transierra and the Kingdom of Toledo. The royal martiniega made up 69.52% of the Rentas Reales in that area. Indeed, the Rentas of 1290-1292 do not mention the extraordinary contributions, i.e. money and services, but do contain a section on the payment of salaries in . Considering the characteristics of this source, we can make some observations on the subject in question. These Rentas enable us to deduce the level of organisation reached by royal taxation in the last decade of the 13th century, making it plausible to build a retrospective view of the situation during the preceding decades, including some items and clarification, although partial, about the times of Alfonso VIII. The Rentas of 1290-1292 is not an accounting source, in other words, these are not really a register of incomes and expenses, but rather the incomes are also the expenses. The duties levied in one place for any reason were assigned to a specific person or institution, that could then pass it to others. Although the records and the detailed applications certainly denote a notable development in the administrative power of the Castilian monarchy, this does not serve so much to assess the level of organization as much as to perceive that the king’s vassals benefited through fiscal resources. The so-called Rentas Reales were said to be held by land (por tierra) or by inheritance (por heredamiento). The latter referred to a hereditary assignment. This could be certain rights, for example the martiniega or part of this in a place, or

38. About these: González, José Damián. “Las rentas del almojarifazgo de Toledo”. Anales Toledanos, 41 (2005): 39-70. 39. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey. Sociedad y fisco en el reino castellano del siglo XIII.Madrid: Fundación Areces, 1993, 3 vols. 40. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 82.

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the lordship over that place. What was held por tierra was the most habitual and indicated that for a particular constituency? For example in the documentation from a meridad menor, the names of the holders of money are stated after expressions like: tienen los por tierra desta guisa, or son puestos en esta guisa. In reality, receiving money por tierra was no more than the tenencias, if we look at a century before the reign of Alfonso VIII. Ultimately, these are incomes derived from the tenencia over a town, a place or any kind of district, that we now know were registered as having been assigned to certain lords, for example the queen, princes, ricoshombres, knights, etc. This means that the information supplied by the Rentas is vital for knowing about the people who had vassalistic links to the King, and who received their pay, in what is most like what is technically known as fiefs, through thepheudo temporali that Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada talked about.41 As well as these rights by land (por tierra), there were the payments of salaries (soldadas). We can ask to what extent the soldadas came from the extraordinary resources of the royal treasury. This way it is tempting to establish a scheme or model of the resources and their application. On one hand, there was assignment of money por tierra or en tierra, as it was also called, and on the other, the soldadas, corresponding to the ordinary and extraordinary income respectively, in other words, on one hand, martiniegas and rights, on the other money and services, or if you prefer, what came from the pecho and what from the pedido. This scheme could be attractive but I fear that it does not correspond to the reality, which was more complicated. In the Courts of Burgos, held in 1315, during Alfonso XI’s minority, the royal chronicle stated that quisieron los de la tierra saber quanto montaban las rentas del Rey; et desque lo sopieron, porque fallaron que eran menguadas, dieron al Rey los diezmos de los puertos que solian aver su padre et sus avuelos, et más tres ayudas, que fuese cada una tanto como una moneda forera, para pagar las soldadas.42 In the Courts of Carrión (1316-1317) the conclusion was reached that the Kings’s income (the concept of 1290-1292) was 1,600,000 maravedies without counting the income from the Frontier (Andalusia), which was another million.43 However, it was that occasion the amount necessary to pay the ricoshombres and knights, maintain the castles and the King and officials in the Court44 was calculated at 9,600,000 maravedies.45 The resources from the extraordinary contributions possibly made up the lion’s share of the income from royal taxation, but the so-called royal rentas also continued to be a considerable part.

41. Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia rebus...: VII, chap. XV. 42. “Those of the land wished to know what the incomes of the King were; and once they knew these, because they found that they were limited, gave the King the tithes of the passes that his father and his grandfathers used to receive, and three grants, each one such as a moneda forera to pay the salaries”. “Crónica de Don Alfonso el Onceno”, Crónicas de los Reyes de Castilla, ed. Cayetano Rosell. Madrid: Ediciones Atlas, 1953: I, 179 (chap. VIII). 43. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 227. 44. Crónica de Don Alfonso el Onceno...: chap. X; see Estepa, Carlos. “La monarquía castellana en los siglos XIII-XIV. Algunas consideraciones”. Edad Media. Revista de Historia, 8 (2007): 79-98 especially 85. 45. Like the data in the Rentas of 1290-1292 the “mrs.” in the cited Crónica were the so-called war maravedis.

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On the other hand, in the part dedicated to Andalusia, the Rentas from 1290- 1292 give us a partial insight into the payment of soldadas.46 The essence of this text is the so-called i. Nómina de la Frontera.47 This is a register of different assignments in various places that did not differ much from what we find in the royal income in other regions. However, there is a section with the soldadas for the knights of Seville, preceded by those of the ricoshombres on the Frontier, as well as assignments to knights in other towns like Carmona, Jerez de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Niebla, Écija, Córdoba, Jaén, Úbeda, Andújar, Arjona and Baeza. In the section of Resúmenes de gastos there is again reference, with the same information, about the ricoshombres and knights. As indicated in a point in the final instructions at the end of the section called “i”,48 there is differentiation between the soldadas and the things que non son soldadas, but what the latter received is also por que me ayan a seruir con caballeros e con armas por ello. This may enable us to propose that the money from the assignments por tierra could also be used to pay soldadas. In an accounts book of tierras assigned to various nobles dating from 1288, a total 2,431,133 maravedies were shared out.49 It seems obvious that with the amounts received, the ricoshombres distributed soldadas, thus the variations in the amount we see for different people. For example, Prince John received 416,000 maravedies while the Leonese noble Diego Ramírez was given 66,000. These amounts were used to pay soldadas to varying numbers of men. Thus, in the summary of expenses in the part of the Rentas of 1290-1292 related to Andalusia, the number of troops is indicated alongside the global amount. For example, Fernán Pérez Ponce received 28,000 maravedies of soldada for 23 men in the troop, while Juan Alfonso, son of Prince Alfonso Fernández, received a soldada of 48,000 maravedies for 40 troops.

4. The cost of War

The nobles received payments from royal taxation, from money por tierra and individualised soldadas. It could be said that the nobles received these incomes massively, but given that these same nobles had needs that went beyond their military functions, we do not know, nor is it easy to appreciate, the percentage of the income from royal taxation that was spent on war, and ultimately the answer to the question of how much war cost is pending. Here it should be noted that while salaries (soldadas) to ricoshombres, noblemen, knights and others would be a substantial element of what we could call in general terms the Costs of War, there are other aspects involved in the spending on war that

46. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 391-418. 47. It is followed by paragraphs ii. Segunda copia de la Nómina; Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 413; and iii. Resúmenes de gastos: Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 414-418. 48. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 411. 49. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 322-323.

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should be taken into consideration. There was a need for a huge number of horses and beasts of burden with their corresponding provisions. Although these costs could also be paid for by the places an army passed through, the logistic requirements had to be attended to. These were not restricted to the varying needs of the people who participated in a campaign for animals, victuals, clothing and arms, as the above- mentioned passage from Jiménez de Rada suggests regarding the foreign troops and how they had been fully equipped by Alfonso VIII.50 Transporting men and animals for a longer or shorter time notably increased the costs of war. Machines had to be built, especially siege engines and mobile fortresses, and the costs of repairing castles and fortresses should also be added to all this. In the calculation of the costs of war, the payment of ransoms for prisoners should perhaps also be considered, although this went strictly beyond royal taxation. Furthermore, if everything mentioned was on the Debit side, we must take into account the contributions of booty to the Credit side. All this leads to the idea that the question of the costs of the war must be answered in all its complexity, naturally without questioning the solidity of the soldadas.

5. Conclusions

The soldadas were the essential element structuring the relation between taxation and war. They already were of great importance during Alfonso VIII’s reign. For this, the information from the Rentas del Rey under Sancho IV (1284-1295), a century later, enables us to value the phenomenon of assigning treasury resources to the nobility and in general to all those who performed military duties. Thanks to the late 13th-century testimonies, we can see that the soldadas also meant a redistribution of the resources from the royal treasury and created a wide client network with the King at its head.51 The nobility were rewarded and could take part in the war, thus strengthening ties with a reinforced royal power thanks to its own participation. This reciprocity should be viewed as inherent to the system or regime in which it developed. The Rentas del Rey under Sancho IV presents a noble framework directed towards and from the monarch. What was the situation under Alfonso VIII? Beyond the importance and validity of the soldadas and the other resources of royal taxation, we enter rather hypothetical grounds. It is still necessary to focus on analysing the resources and their distribution from the tenencias, but we can start from the idea that, from the end of the 12th and beginning of the 13th centuries, the payment of soldadas generated a complex organisational structure that reflected a consolidated monarchy.

50. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 8. 51. Arias, Fernando. Guerra y fortalecimiento del poder regio en Castilla. El reinado de Alfonso XI (1312-1350). Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2012: 221.

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MONKS AND KNIGHTS IN MEDIEVAL GALICIA. THE EXAMPLE OF THE BENEDICTINES OF TOXOS OUTOS IN THE TWELFTH AND THIRTEENTH CENTURIES

Francesco Renzi Universidade do Porto Portugal

Date of receipt: 7th of October, 2014 Final date of acceptance: 18th of March, 2015

Abstract

The aim of this article is to investigate the relationship between the Benedictine monks of San Justo and Pastor de Toxos Outos and the local military aristocracy of the archdiocese of Santiago de Compostela between the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries. By a comparative study with other monastic realities in Galicia, this work will show the existence of a strong competition between monastic Orders in Galicia and how the Benedictines monks of Toxos Outos were able to cope with the loss of royal and high aristocratic support by shifting their attention to the knightly class. The study of these aspects will also illustrate how monastic sources may be used to study the lower aristocratic groups, their composition, ambitions and development in the north western Iberian Peninsula in the high Middle Ages.

Keywords

Toxos Outos, Santiago de Compostela, knights, Galicia, Benedictines.

Capitalia Verba

Toxos Outos, Sanctus Iacobus Compostellae, Milites, Gallaecia, Benedictini.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 225-252 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.10 225 226 Francesco Renzi

1. Introduction

The aim of this study is to investigate the relationship between the monks of San Justo and Pastor of Toxos Outos and the local military aristocracy of the archdiocese of Compostela between the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries.1 From the 80s the study of the aristocracy in the medieval Iberian Peninsula and its relationship with the monastic world has occupied progressively more space in the historiographical debate.2 Most of those studies concentrated their attention on the royal aristocracy and the most important Iberian families (such as the Traba, the Vermúdez, or the Lara) their promotion and patronage on the monasteries3. However, the relationships between the Iberia monastic institutions and the lower aristocracy, in particular the knightly group, still remains less studied although some scholars in the past few years have been trying to fill such an important gap in medieval Iberian studies4. The connection with the local knights was very important for the Benedictine monks of Toxos Outos, who found in this social group an important ally for their patrimonial policies. Contained in the cartulary

1. I would like to thank Profs. Francisco Javier Pérez Rodríguez (University of Vigo) and José Miguel Andrade Cernadas (University of Santiago de Compostela) and Dr. Enrico Dumas (University of Bologna) for their help with the consultation of the bibliography; Professors Peter Hoppenbrouwers, Hans Mol, and all the members of the Medieval Research Group of the Leiden University-Institute for History for their feedback; finally, Dr. Antonella Liuzzo Scorpo (University of Lincoln) for the revision of the English. Used abbreviations: AHN, Archivo Histórico Nacional; ARG, Archivo del Reino de Galicia; RAG, Real Academia de Galicia. 2. On the historiographical debate see the consideration of Barton, Simon. The aristocracy in twelfth-century León and Castile. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1997: 3 and following. 3. See for example the works of Mattoso, José. A nobreza medieval portuguesa: a família e o poder. Lisbon: Estampa, 1981; Pérez-Embid, Javier. El Císter en Castilla y León. Monacato y dominios rurales (siglos XII-XIV). Salamanca: Junta de Castilla y León, 1986; García, José M. Galicia en la baja Edad media. Iglesia, Señorío y nobleza. Noia: Toxosoutos, 1999: 11-28; Torres, Margarita. Linajes nobiliarios de León y Castilla. Siglos IX- XIII. Salamanca: Junta de Castilla y León, 1999; Guevara, Eduardo de. Los señores de Galicia. Tenientes y condes de Lemos en la Edad Media. A Coruña: Fundacion Pedro Barrie de la Maza, 1999 and by the same author, “De las viejas estirpes a las nuevas hidalguías. El entramado nobiliario gallego al fin de la Edad Media”. Nalgures, 3 (2006): 263-278; Doubleday, Simon R. The Lara family: Crown and Nobility in medieval Spain. Cambridge (Mass.): Harvard University Press, 2001; Calleja, Miguel. El conde Suero Vermúdez, su parentela y su entorno social. La aristocracia asturleonesa en los siglos XI y XII. Oviedo: KRK ediciones, 2001; López, José Luis. La nobleza altomedieval gallega. La familia Froilaz-Traba. Noia: Toxosoutos, 2002; Alonso, Raquel. “Los promotores de la Orden del Cister en los reinos de Castilla y León: familias aristocráticas y damas nobles”. Anuarios de estudios medievales, 37/2 (2007): 653-710; Calderón, Inés. Cum magnatibus regni mei: la nobleza y la monarquía leonesa durante los reinados de Fernando II y Alfonso IX (1157-1230). Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2011 and Calderón, Inés; Martins, Paulo. “Beyond the Border The Aristocratic mobility between the kingdoms of Portugal and León (1157-1230)”. E-Journal of Portuguese History, 12/1 (2014): 1-48 [http://www.brown.edu/Departments/Portuguese_Brazilian_ Studies/ejph/html/issue23/pdf/v12n1a01.pdf]. 4. See Martínez, Pascual. “Monjes y caballeros. Una dialéctica ambigua entre sensibilidad devocional y violencia”, Monasterios y nobles en la España del románico entre la devoción y la estrategia, José Ángel García de Cortázar, Ramón Teja, eds. Aguilar de Campoo: Fundacion Santa Maria la Real-Centro de Estudios del Románico, 2014: 37-59.

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produced in 12895, the sources of the monastery recorded several documents about the milites. In this study, I will compare these documents with those from the Galician Cistercian monasteries (and in particular those of the archdiocese of Santiago, Sobrado, Monfero and Armenteira) considered by the historiography as the first and strongest competitors of the abbey of Toxos Outos in the north- west Iberian Peninsula. First, I will analyze the general political and ecclesiastical context in which Toxos Outos was inserted, its evolution after the arrival of the Cistercians and the reasons which encouraged the monks of Toxos Outos to look for knights’ support. Second, I will study the role played by the local military families in the patrimonial expansion of Toxos Outos. Third, I will study the agreements signed to manage these lands or goods granted by knights and squires to the Benedictines. Using the example of the testaments of two local milites, I will also examine the religious connections between monks and knights and the richness and the power of the latter. Finally, I will try to show how the presence of these men with military specialization as confirmantes of the documents may be a proof of the transformation and the progressive growth of this group since the first half of the thirteenth century.

2. The monastic concurrence: Toxos Outos, the Cistercians, and the Galician “Powers”

So far historiography attributed the interest of the Benedictine monks of Toxos Outos for the social group of knights and squires to two main reasons. On the one hand, these tight contacts with the local world of the milites have been justified by the “aristocratic” foundation of the monastery of San Justo and Pastor in 1134- 1135, connected to the figure ofdominus Pedro Cresconiz, nicknamed Infazón, and the knights Froila Alfonso and Pedro Muñiz Carnota —both members of the court of Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile (1126-1157)—, who choose since 1127 to retreat in the hermit of Toxos Outos6. On the other hand, the social group of the knights has been considered very important for the monastery, as it constituted one of the most decisive supporters for the patrimonial expansion of Toxos Outos7. Especially this last element has been related to the loss of importance of Toxos Outos in the Galician ecclesiastical and political context after the arrival

5. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos do tombo de Toxosoutos. Santiago de Compostela: Consello da Cultura Galega, Seccion de Patrimonio Historico, 2004: 9. 6. For the origin of the monastery see with attention Pérez, Francisco Javier. O Mosteiro Dos Santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxosoutos na Edade Media: seculos XII. A Coruña: Edicios do Castro, 2002: 15-16. For the documents see Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos do tombo de Toxosoutos..., 19-22 (docs. No. 1, 2, 3 and 4). 7. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 106-115 and 123.

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of the Cistercians coming from Clairvaux at Sobrado in 11428. According to F. J. Pérez Rodríguez, initially Toxos Outos was destined to become one of the most significant monastery in the whole Galicia, but since 1140-145, the abbey was progressively marginalized by King Alfonso VII of León-Castile and his successors —Fernando II (1157-1188) and Alfonso IX of Leon (1188-1230)—, and the by Traba family (one of the most important Iberian aristocratic groups of the twelfth century9) who preferred to give their support to the white monks and in particular to the monastery of Sobrado situated in the archdiocese of Santiago de Compostela exactly like Toxos Outos10. According to Francisco Javier Pérez Rodríguez, this choice made by the castilian-leonese monarchy and the highest spheres of the Galician aristocracy, together with the opposition of the archbishops of Compostela to the entry of Toxos Outos in the Cistercian Order because of the exemption of white monks from the episcopal authority, converted Toxos Outos in a sort of “frustrated project”, a promising experience strongly limited by the concurrence of the Order of Cîteaux11. If one looks at the sources it is possible to observe that between 1131 and 1144 Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile gave several donations and rights to Toxos Outos12 and in 1136 the monastery obtained also a privilege by the future king of Portugal, Alfonso Henriques13, who accorded some lands in Paredes (near the actual Viana do Castelo), in the area of the Miño river, today in northern Portugal to the monks of San Justo and Pastor14. After the reign of Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile, the monastery of Toxos Outos received other three new donations by King Fernando II of Leon from 1162 to 116715, but all the other royal interventions, both Leonese and Portuguese, in the following decades in favor of the Benedictines were just confirmations or renewals of previous privileges,

8. See Pallares, María del Carmen. El monasterio de Sobrado: Un ejemplo del protagonismo monástico en la Galicia medieval. A Coruña: Deputación A Coruña, 1979: 107-109; Isla, Amancio. La sociedad gallega en la Alta Edad Media. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1992: 82-233; López, José Luis. “La nobleza altomedieval gallega. La familia Froilaz de Traba. Sus fundaciones monacales en Galicia en los siglos XI, XII y XIII”. Nalgures, 4 (2007): 303-304 and Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia. Le reti cistercensi (1142-1250). Trieste: Centro Europeo Ricerche Medievali, 2014: 37 and followings. 9. On the Traba family see Fletcher, Richard A. Saint James’s Catapult. The Life and Times of Diego Gelmírez of Santiago de Compostela. Oxford: Clarendon Press 1984: 34-36; Pallares, Maria del Carmen; Portela, Ermelindo. “Aristocracia y sistema de parentesco en la Galicia de la Edad Media: el grupo de los Traba”. Hispania. Revista española de historia, 53/185 (1993): 823-840; López, José Luis. La nobleza altomedieval gallega. La familia Froílaz de Traba. Noia: Toxosoutos, 2002: 54-60; Renzi, Francesco. “El Císter en Galicia entre los siglos XII y XIII: ¿una nueva perspectiva?”, ¿Qué implica ser medievalista? Prácticas y reflexiones en torno al oficio del historiador, Gerardo F. Rodríguez, Andrea Vanyna, eds. Mar del Plata: Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata-Sociedad Argentina de Estudios Medievales, 2012: 155-169. 10. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 19-20 and 119-123. 11. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 123. 12. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxosoutos...: 22-32 (docs. No. 5, 6, 7, 8 and 12). 13. Mattoso, José. Don Afonso Henriques. Lisbon: Temas & Debates, 2007: 28 and following. 14. Alfonso Henriques was son of the Count of Portugal Henry of Burgundy and Teresa Alfonso. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxosoutos...: 95-97 (doc. No. 50). 15. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxosoutos...: 33-50 (docs. No. 14, 21 and 25).

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without a real patrimonial increment for Toxos Outos16. At the same time the cartulary of San Justo recorded only a small number of donations granted by the Traba family to the Benedictine monks between 1137 and 117717. In two cases the monks of Toxos Outos also clashed against the Traba family. A document of the cartulary of Toxos Outos reports that Rodrigo Pérez (nicknamed El velloso, son of the Count of Galicia Pedro Froílaz de Traba) in 1157 promised to the monks to stop attacking the properties of San Justo and Pastor in Gomariz, locality situated in southern Galicia («facio inquam uobis agnitionem in duplum prefate ville ut nunquam pro ea uos impetam aut calupnem ego»). In 1161, however, Vermudo Pérez de Traba (half-brother of Rodrigo el Velloso), already a Cistercian monk in Sobrado, directly intervened against the interests of Toxos Outos for the question of the monastery of Nogueirosa. Such a behavior has been considered by F. J. Pérez Rodríguez as the definitive sign of the loss of support for Toxos Outos by the Traba family, who became more interested in the promotion of the Cistercians18. The general framework built by F. J. Pérez Rodríguez is strictly based on the rigorous analysis of the monastic sources, but if the experience of Toxos Outos is analyzed from a comparative perspective with the Cistercian abbeys, it is possible to notice how the Benedictines did not “disappear” from the local context, but they were instead able to compete with the white monks at the same conditions. For this reason, I believe that it may be essential to make some observations about the general monastic framework in Galicia after the arrival of the Cistercians in order to contextualize the experience of Toxos Outos and its relationships with the other forms of religious life in that area. After 1142, the Cistercians sources clearly show that Sobrado received a huge number of donations and privileges granted by Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile,

16. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 76-94 (docs. No. 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47 and 49) (Alfonso IX). In the document n. 50 (the donation made by Alfonso I Henriques) are inserted also the royal Portuguese confirmation accorded to San Justo and Pastor by King Sancho I in 1187 and by King Sancho II in 1214, both in the city of Guimarães. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxosoutos...: 95-97 (doc. No. 50). 17. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxosoutos...: 29-611 (docs. No. 10, 27, 421, 639, 675 and 676). On Ponce de Cabrera see Barton, Simon. “Two Catalan magnates in the courts of the Kings of León-Castile: The careers of Ponce de Cabrera and Ponce de Minerva re-examined”. Journal of Medieval History, 18 (1992): 233-266 and Fernández-Xesta, Ernesto. Un magnate catalán en la corte de Alfonso VII: Comes Poncius de Cabreira, princeps Çemore. Madrid: Prensa y Ediciones Iberoamericanas, 1991; Pallares, María del Carmen; Pérez, Francisco Javier; González, Marta; Vaquero, Beatriz. “La tierra de Santiago, espacio de poder (siglos XII-XIII)”. Semata, 4 (1992): 140. On the Traba family López, José Luis. La nobleza altomedieval...: 44-56. 18. López, José Luis. La nobleza altomedieval...: 164-528 (32). On the “Velloso” son of Count Pedro Froílaz de Traba and his second wife Mayor Rodríguez, see Barton, Simon. “Sobre Rodrigo Pérez el Velloso”. Estudios Mindonienses, 5 (1989): 553-661. For the clash against Vermudo Pérez see: Pérez, Francisco Javier. O monasteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 108-109.

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Fernando II, Alfonso IX of León19 and the Traba family20, which were neither comparable to the limited number of goods and rights, nor to the exemptions accorded to San Justo and Pastor de Toxos Outos in the same period. In any case, it is important not to generalize these dynamics, extending the experience of Sobrado to all the other Cistercian monasteries in Galicia. The development of the Order of Cîteaux had been extremely heterogeneous and each monastery developed a diverse model of patrimonial expansion connected to the different economic, social and political backgrounds of every single area of the Galician region. For example, the royal protection was not the same for all the Cistercians. The privileges of Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile, Fernando II and Alfonso IX of Leon show how Sobrado, Melón and Oseira were among the most supported monasteries by the monarchy21. Between Sobrado and its interest in the northern part of the region and Melón and Oseira (both situated in the south of the region, respectively in the dioceses of Tui and Ourense) it is possible to observe two totally different policies led by Kings. One in the northern part of Galicia based on a mix of land concessions and exemptions and another strategy based on the cession to the Cistercians of portions of the royal patrimony (the fiscus called also realengus in the sources22) placed at the border with the kingdom of Portugal. This difference may be explained with the different needs of the Kings of Leon-Castile and León, and the strategic position of those monasteries. In fact, Sobrado was placed near Compostela and the new ports of the

19. Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbos del monasterio de Sobrado de los Monjes. Madrid: Dirección General del Patrimonio Artístico y Cultural, Archivo Histórico Nacional, 1976: I (doc. No. 136, 489 and 617); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 24-144 (docs. No. 9, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 37, 38, 39, 41, 49, 52, 53 and 122); ARG. Pergaminos. Sobrado, 88; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 526, No. 19; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 527, No. 10; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 530, No. 12; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado carpeta 531, No. 16; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 532, No. 13 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 533, n. 20; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado carpeta 537, No. 1; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 538, n. 8 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 539, n. 5 (copies at ns. 6, 7, 8 and 9). 20. Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 188-528 (docs. No. 145, 210, 212, 238, 240, 260, 262, 341, 476, 477, 490, 492, 543, 601, 602 and 618); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 23-465 (docs. No. 8, 10, 11, 13, 19, 25, 26, 35, 36, 364, 366, 390, 400, 453, 471, 404, 513, 517, 528, 539 and 543); AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 526, ns. 10, 11 and 13; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 527, ns. 10, 11 and 13; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 528, ns. 3 and 7; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 529, n. 4; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 530, n. 4; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 535, n. 18; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 536, n. 2; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 537, n. 16; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 538, ns. 1 and 2; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 540, ns. 1 and 9; ARG. Pergaminos. Sobrado, ns. 218, 305, 490 and 733. 21. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 277-279. 22. On this term and the administration of the royal patrimony see García, Luis. Señores y burgueses en la Edad Media Hispana. Madrid: Real Academia de la Historia, 1985: 124-126 (first edition 1961) and Álvarez, Ignacio. “Vasallos, oficiales, clientes y parientes. Sobre la jerarquía y las relaciones internobiliarias en la Castilla medieval (c. 1100-c. 1350). Una aproximación a partir de las fuentes documentales”. Hispania. Revista española de Historia, 30/235 (2010): 359-390.

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Atlantic Coast, in proximity of the French “Camino de Santiago” and the iron mines of Pedrahita: an ideal position for trades that might explain the significant number of economic and transport exemptions granted by Kings. Melón and Oseira, instead, were placed in a very turbulent area, very important for the wine production, but at the same time heavily marked by the military conflicts between León and Portugal between the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries. In the case of Melón it is even possible to notice a perfect coincidence between the donations made by Fernando II and Alfonso IX of León and the moments of maximum tension with Portugal23. Two additional aspects are really eye-catching. On the one hand, Oseira and Melón founded respectively in 1139 and in 115824 seem to have raised the interest of the Kings of Leon-Castile and León in the second half of the twelfth century more than any other traditional monastic institution. For example, the prestigious Benedictine abbey of San Salvador de Celanova situated in the diocese of Ourense received five royal privileges by Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile between 1140 and 115525, only one intervention in its favor from Fernando II in 116426, and no royal confirmation or privilege by Alfonso IX of Leon before 121527. This data may suggest that Oseira and Melón were chosen by the monarchy because Cistercian monks were considered more reliable than other traditional monastic groups to control the Galician territory28, but if one looks at the chronology of royal intervention, it is possible to notice that Oseira received a high number of donations even before its entry in the Cistercian Order which only happened only in the late twelfth century29. The continuity of donations and the protection granted by the Kings between 1139

23. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 225-235. 24. For the foundation of Oseira see Romaní, Miguel. A colección diplomática do mosteiro cisterciense de Santa María de Oseira (1025-1335). Santiago de Compostela: Torculo, 1989: I, docs. No. 14 and 15. For the foundation of Melón: Valle, José Carlos. La arquitectura cisterciense en Galicia. A Coruña: Fundacion “Pedro Barrie de la Maza, Conde de Fenosa”, 1982: I, 207-208 and Valle, José Carlos. “Los estudios sobre la implantación de la Orden del Cister en España. El caso de Galicia: situación actual y perspectivas”, De Galicia en la Edad Media, Actas del Coloquio de Santiago de Compostela-A Coruña-Pontevedra-Vigo-Betanzos, 13- 17 Junio 1987. Madrid: Sociedad Espanola de Estudios Medievales, 1990: 135. See also Romaní, Miguel; Piñeyro, Otero. “Sobre el inicio del monasterio de Melón y sus relaciones con los monasterios de Bárcena y Canales: corpus documental”, Galicia Monástica Estudos en Lembranza da Profesora M. J. Portela Silva, Raquel Casal, José Miguel Andrade, Roberto J. López, eds. Santiago de Compostela: Universidade de Santiago de Compostela 2009: 23-39. 25. AHN. Clero. Clero Regular. Ourense. Celanova, carpeta 1430, ns. 18, 19 and 20 and AHN. Clero. Clero Regular. Ourense. Celanova, carpeta 1431, n. 1. 26. Andrade, José Miguel. O tombo de Celanova: Estudio introductorio, edición e índices (ss. IX-XII). Santiago de Compostela: Consello da Cultura Galega, 1995 187-188 (doc. No. 125). The donation of 1164 granted by Fernando II to Pelayo Díaz was only confirmed by the abbot of Celanova. See González, Julio.Regesta de Fernando II. Madrid: Instituto Leonés de Cultura, 1943: 462. 27. Andrade, José Miguel. “Los monasterios benedictinos y el poder”. Sémata, 4 (1992): 112-113 and Vaquero Beatriz. Colección diplomática do mosteiro de san Salvador de Celanova (siglos XIII-XV). Vigo: Tórculo, 2004: doc. No. 5. 28. Portela, Ermelindo. La colonización cisterciense...: 58. 29. Portela, Ermelindo. La colonización cisterciense...: 76-81. In the opinion of Ermelindo Portela Oseira became Cistercian between 1184 and 1191.

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and 122830 might suggest that these monasteries were not always (or necessarily) selected because of their Order of reference, but for their direct connection with the monarchy (Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile directly supported the foundation of Oseira), their geographical position, their connections with local powers and their economic and political networks31. It is possible, therefore, that in the case of Toxos Outos the fact that it was not Cistercian was not the only reason which might justify the lack of interest of Alfonso VII and his successors. In my opinion, Toxos Outos lost its strategic importance for the Leonese monarchy from the third quarter of the twelfth century for two main reasons. First, Toxos Outos was located in the Santiago´s Land (Tierra de Santiago), which was the area directly controlled by the Archbishops of Compostela32. If the monastery might be a strategic ally for the monarchy at the time of the powerful and independent Archbishop Diego Gelmírez or during the deep crisis of the see of Saint James after his death, from 1167, with the election of Pedro Gudesteíz as Archbishop, Compostela was controlled by men (often former royal chancellors) strongly connected to the Leonese monarchs, who could guarantee the royal interest in that area33. Second, always for its “unlucky” geographical position, Toxos Outos was far from the areas which were important from the second half of the twelfth century (the new ports of the Atlantic coast and the border with Portugal): a distance which probably caused its political isolation. At the same time it is necessary to revise the role played by the Traba family played in the monastic promotion. I will consider the case the monastery of Monfero. This abbey was founded around 1134-1135 by two milites Pedro Osorio and Alfonso Vermúdez with the support of Alfonso VII of Leon-Castile in the archdiocese of Santiago34. In the same years of the great promotion of Sobrado, in the third quarter of the twelfth century, the Traba family gave an important number of donations to the monastery of Monfero between 1147 and 117535. But was Monfero a Cistercian monastery in that period? In the opinion of José Luis López

30. Between 1139 and 1193 (six years before the first mention of Oseira as Cistercian in 1199), the monastery received twelve royal privileges by Alfonso VII, Fernando II, and Alfonso IX, exactly the same from 1193 and 1228, but most of these privileges were, exactly like in the case of Toxos Outos, simple confirmations of past royal intervention. Romaní, Miguel.A colección diplomática de Oseira...: I, 18-295 (docs. No. 16, 17, 21, 22, 34, 35, 36, 43, 44, 46, 58, 82, 112, 120, 123, 143, 180, 191, 216, 268, 269, 270, 271 and 303). 31. These factors can explain the renewed interest of Alfonso IX of León after 1215. Vaquero, Beatriz. Colección diplomática de Celanova...: I, 44-63 (docs. No. 7, 8, 10, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 24 and 25). 32. Pallares, María del Carmen; Pérez, Francisco Javier; González, Marta; Vaquero, Beatriz. “La tierra de Santiago”...: 140. 33. Pérez, Francisco Javier. La Iglesia de Santiago de Compostela en la Edad Media: el Cabildo catedralicio (1100-1400). Santiago de Compostela: Consello da Cultura Galega, 1996: 32-33 and 175 and Pérez, Francisco Javier. “Los cabildos catedralicios gallegos en la Edad Media (siglos XII-XIV)”. Ciencias sociais e Humanidades, 22 (2010): 159-175. 34. López, José Luís. “Un problema resuelto: la fundación del monasterio de Santa María de Monfero, los privilegios de Alfonso VII y su filiación al Císter”.Estudios mindonienses, 13 (1997): 630-640. 35. López, José Luís. “Relación de la documentación del monasterio de Santa María de Monfero”, Estudios Mindonienses, 18 (2002): 296-378 (regs. n. 4, 19, 23, 24, 27, 28, 29, 33, 36, 43, 44, 45, 47, 52, 65, 68, 77, 149, 178, 211 and 235).

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Sangil, Monfero was Cistercian since 1147. One of the elements used to justify this chronology is the presence of a monk from Oseira as abbot of Monfero in 115236. The problem is that Oseira in 1152 was not Cistercian and the first mention of Oseira as Cistercian is only dated in 1199, as argued by Miguel Romaní Martínez, and the first statement of the monastery of Monfero as Cistercian is dated 118237. This chronology suggests that in all likelihood an (or the most) important part of the donations granted by the Traba family to this monastery were made when it was not Cistercian. In my opinion, this attention showed by the family for Monfero was connected to its strategic position in northern Galicia, between Compostela and Mondoñedo, where the Traba had their most significant interests, especially after the failure of the Portuguese policy led by Count Fernando Pérez de Traba († 1155) during the period 1120-114038. Furthermore, there are other factors to consider. First of all, as for the case of Sobrado the relationships between the Traba and the Cistercians were not only of mere patronage, but they were often conflictual in the second half of the twelfth century39. Second, after 1175 the number of donations of the Traba in favor of the Cistercians of the archdiocese of Compostela decreased consistently. In the case of Monfero the family of the Counts of Galicia gave only five donations between 1175 and 1250, and even in the case of Sobrado (which remains in any case the most important beneficiary of the Traba) the number of donations was reduced and in more than one occasion the white monks that helped some members of the family in the first half of the thirteenth century40. Last but not least, the Traba had weak and sporadic relationships with the Cistercian monasteries of southern Galicia (Armenteira, Oia, Oseira, Melón, or Montederramo), but the absence of this family did not impede to Melón or Oseira to become two of the most important Galician monasteries, a proof of how it is important not to generalize about the patronage between monks and aristocrats in Galicia41. It is also important to devote some attention to the problem of the papal exemption and the behavior of bishops towards monasteries. Perhaps a powerful man like the Archbishop of Compostela Diego Gelmírez (†1140), did not want such a strong competitor like the white monks (maybe like the Cistercians as would sarcastically notice Walter Map in his De Nugis Curialium42), but it is also worth remembering that Sobrado was founded at the presence of some important members of the Cathedral Chapter,

36. López, José Luís. “Un problema resuelto...”: 646. 37. López, José Luís. “Un problema resuelto...”: 646; Romaní, Miguel. “La integración de Osera en el Cister. Estado de la cuestión”. Cuadernos de estudios gallegos, 37/102 (1987): 43-55. See also Renzi, Francesco. The wedge of St. Bernard. The Cistercian networks in the northern Iberian Peninsula: the case of Galicia (1142-1250). Bologna: Alma Mater Studiorum University of Bologna (PhD Dissertation), 2013: 42-47. 38. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 207-224 and related footnotes for bibliography. 39. Barros, Carlos. “Origen del castillo y coto de Aranga, siglos X-XII”. Cuadernos de estudios gallegos, 122/56 (2009): 139-150. 40. López, José Luís. “Fundaciones monacales”...: 282-286 and 315-319. Is the case of Sancha Fernández de Traba in 1207 or Rodrigo Fernández de Traba in 1217 (AHN. Clero. Clero Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 538, n. 1). Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 70-71. 41. See Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 207-210. 42. Walter Map. De nugis curialium, ed. Matthew R. James. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983: 74 and 92.

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especially Pedro Helias (future archbishop of Santiago between 1143 and 1149, who also granted a donation also to Toxos Outos43) and Pedro Cresconiz, who was in touch with the Traba family even before the arrival of the Cistercians at Sobrado. Moreover, while Toxos Outos had good relationships with the See of Saint James, the Cistercians were not always independent from the authority of the bishops and from the last quarter of the twelfth century they had to defend themselves from the inference of the Archbishops of Santiago, who tried to control the white monks of Sobrado and Monfero by going even against papal dispositions44. In conclusion, Toxos Outos was not a rare case in the monastic Galician landscape. It was not in a situation much different than that of other monasteries like Armenteira, Oia, Oseira, Melón, or Montederramo for its relationships with the Traba. Moreover, similarly to Sobrado or Monfero, Toxos Outos might have been affected by the policies of the Archbishops of Compostela. Like the Cistercians in the last quarter of the twelfth centuries, the monks of San Justo looked for new and independent social networks to compete with the other monastic Orders, finding a formidable political and patrimonial interlocutor in the local group of the knights.

3. The knights and Toxos Outos: land transactions, donors and sellers

The patrimonial relationships between the monastery of Toxos Outos and the local military aristocracy are key aspects to examine. I prefer to use the term “aristocracy” rather than “nobility” to define this social group during the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries in the northern Iberian Peninsula. With “Aristocracy”, I refer to “a group of individuals with a dominant or important position in society due to their social, political or economic power, which they obtained in a specific historical period and without a legal status approved by Kings or Emperors”45. The power of these social groups was disconnected from their origin and even from their juridical status, while their position in society was not directly transmittable to their descendants. Under this perspective, it is also important to include in the definition of “lay aristocracy” for Galicia also the most powerful families like the Traba; the men and the women defined in the sources asdomini and dominae (a term not easy to interpret, but which seems to indicate a relevant

43. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 45-48 (doc. No. 22). 44. Look at papal the document on tithes contained in the cartulary of Toxos Outos as example Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 697 (doc. No. 788). On the relationship between Toxos Outos and the local clergy see Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor...: 101-106. On the papal exemption of the Cistercians in Galicia see Renzi, Francesco. “The bone of the contention: Cistercians, bishops and papal exemption. The case of the archdiocese of Santiago de Compostela (1150- 1250)”. Journal of Medieval Iberian Studies, 5 (2013): 47-68. 45. Crouch, David. The birth of Nobility. Constructing Aristocracy in England and France 900-1300. London- New York: Pearson Longman, 2005: 2-4.

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social role played by these people), the knights and the squires; the most important landowners; the first urbanélites of the twelfth century; and, for a more global view, the clergymen who were often expression of the same local families46. Considering all this, one should not to consider the knights as synonym of aristocracy, but some of the members of this heterogeneous social group47. In the sources of Toxos Outos men with military specialization are defined as milites, armigeri, or scutiferi48. The word miles (knight) indicated a precise condition and a different and more relevant social and military role (the latter was regarded as the most important characteristic of these individuals in the twelfth century according to Jean Flori) than of these called armigeri (“arm-bearers” or armigerous) or scutiferi (squires)49. These two terms, in particular, seem to be used as synonyms in the cartulary of San Justo and Pastor de Toxos Outos still in the late thirteenth century. For example, a man called Pedro Fernández nicknamed Bochón is defined armiger in a document of Toxos Outos dated 1239; he is called scutifer in 1247; again armiger in 1259, and finally he is qualified as scutifer in two documents dated 1261 and 1267. By contrast the men defined asmilites always maintained this appellation in the monastic documents of the thirteenth century. Furthermore, only for knights, differently from the armigeri and the scutiferi, in several cases their higher

46. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos..: 31. In the opinion of R. A. Fletcher, the Traba family was an example of “new men” of unknown provenance, who achieved a relevant position in few decades between the eleventh and the twelfth centuries. Fletcher, Richard A. Saint James’ Catapult. The Life and Times of Diego Gelmírez of Santiago de Compostela. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984: 34. Even if contrary to the Spanish historiographical tradition, I shared and developed Fletcher´s idea in my Renzi, Francesco. “El Císter en Galicia entre los siglos XII y XIII”...: 161-162. See also Rodríguez, Ana. “Monastic strategy and local relations. The social influence of the monastery of Oseira in the thirteenth century”, Beyond the Market. Transactions, property and social networks in monastic Galicia, 1200-1300, Reina Pastor, ed. Leiden: Brill, 2002: 161-168. See also the considerations of Violante, Cinzio. “Il concetto di Chiesa feudale” nella storiografia”,Chiesa e mondo feudale nei secoli X-XII. Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 1995: 8 and following. 47. On the debate about the definition of the medieval aristocracy see Crouch, David. The Image of Aristocracy: In Britain, 1000-1300. New York: Routledge, 1992: 2-30; Reuter, Timothy. “The medieval Nobility in Twentieth-Century Historiography”, Companion to Historiography, Michael Bentley, ed. London: The Routledge, 1997: 178-180; Bosl, Karl. Modelli di società medievale. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1979: 111-113; Cantarella, Glauco M. Una sera dell’anno mille. Scene di Medieoevo. Milan: Garzanti, 2000: 41 and 73-78. 48. Morsel, Joseph. La aristocracia medieval: La dominación social en Occidente (siglos V-XV). Valencia: Universitat de València, 2008: 139-149, 169 and 259-260. 49. Flori, Jean. ’Chevaliers’ et ’chevalerie’ au Moyen Âge. Paris: Hachette, 2000: 10, 13-14 and 75-76. See also Barthélemy, Dominique. La chevalerie: De la Germanie antique à la France du XIIe siècle. Paris: Librarie Arthème Fayard, 2007: 54 and in particular the related note footnote n. 16. On the evolution of the word miles in the medieval sources see the works the same authors: Flori, Jean. L’essor de la chevalerie: XIe-XIIe siècles. Genève: Droz, 1983: 136 and following pages and Barthélemy, Dominique. Chevaliers et miracles. La violence et le sacré dans la société féodale. Paris: Armand Colin, 2004: 23-25. See also the work of Duby, Georges. “Lignage, noblesse et chevalerie au XIIe siècle dans la région mâconnaise”. Annales, économies, sociétés, civilizations, 27 (1972): 803-823 and the monograph Bouchard, Constance. Those of My Blood: Creating Noble Families in Medieval Francia. University of Pennsylvania: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001: 5 and following pages. See Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 31. For a general framework of the relationships between the aristocracy and the Benedictines in Galicia, see Andrade, José Miguel. El monácato benedictino y la sociedad de la Galicia medieval (siglos X al XIII). A Coruña: Ediciós do Castro, 1997: 222-229.

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condition was reinforced by the addition of the term dominus, reserved to those who were closely linked with the monastic community. In some cases, the two different conditions coexisted within the same family: for example in 1244 the miles Viviano sold his properties to Toxos Outos, together with his brother Lupo, defined asarmiger in the document. It is important to observe also that not all the male members of these families were introduced to the military career, and at the same time the social condition and the appellation of “knight” was not always automatically extended to the following generations. In 1276, for example, the scutifer Alfonso Pérez de Ryatelo got in touch with the monks of Toxos Outos for a land transaction: in the document Alfonso is indicated as the son of the miles Pedro Díaz, showing in this way his different (and lower at that point) military status from that of his father in the previous generation50. This varied social group was very active in the promotion of the Benedictines. In the sources contained in the cartulary of Toxos Outos, I registered thirty-seven land transactions in favor of the monastic community between 1135 and 1284 directly made by men defined in the documents as knights, armigerous or squires51. Considering the whole amount of donations accorded to Toxos Outos by laymen (including the Traba family, the men and the women called domini/dominae without specific military attributions, and the local landowners calledheredes in the sources), the number of lands transactions granted directly by milites, armigeri, and scutiferi represent the 13,4% of the total number of patrimonial grants received by Toxos Outos52. With the addition of the donations or sales accorded by other members of these families (or by their relatives) even if not qualified with a military specialization in the sources, this percentage grows up to 20,1% of the total amount of the land

50. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 326-616 (docs. No. 318, 474, 554, 558, 617, 618, 682 and pp. 834-838). 51. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 92-632 (docs. No. 48, 53, 82, 95, 164, 224, 269, 270, 294, 296, 318, 355, 395, 486, 618, 678, 679 and 703 (Donations)). 163-694 (docs. No. 121, 164, 182, 294, 396, 419, 436, 442, 532, 578, 619, 680, 682, 690, 691 and 784 (Sales)). 42-521 (docs. No. 430, 475 and 551 (Land exchanges)). 52. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 110-696 (docs. No. 60, 61, 66, 76, 80, 81, 83- 85, 87, 92, 94, 96, 99, 108, 109, 115-117, 119, 120, 121, 124, 126, 129-134, 136-140, 144-147, 156-160, 162, 163, 170, 174, 175, 181, 183, 185, 204-206, 209, 211, 222, 223, 226-229, 233, 234, 236, 237, 239, 240, 242-246, 248-253, 255-257, 260, 262, 264, 265, 268, 271, 272, 276-278, 281-283, 287, 291-293, 298, 299, 301, 305, 309-311, 314, 315, 317, 320, 323, 326-329, 333-336, 338-340, 342, 343, 345-349, 361, 364, 365, 367, 368, 370, 370, 373, 375, 380, 382, 388, 389, 404, 405, 409, 411, 427, 437, 438, 444, 462, 465, 480, 482, 489, 490, 492, 493, 496, 499, 500, 502, 512, 515, 516, 518, 519, 521, 522, 532, 533, 537, 545, 552, 555, 556, 559, 561, 564, 565, 577, 579, 582, 583, 585, 589, 591, 592-596, 600, 601, 603, 610, 611, 613, 616, 621,623, 624, 627, 635, 643-645, 659, 667, 699, 700-702, 704, 709, 710, 711, 713, 717, 718, 720, 763-765, 779, 782, 786 and 787 (Heredes: Donations, sales, and land exchanges)). 41-550 (docs. No. 17, 19, 31, 111, 144, 321, 394, 483, 513, 525, 546, 554, 572, 574, 575, 581 and 590) (Domini/ dominae: Donations, sales and land exchanges). For the Traba land transactions look at footnotes ns. 14- 23. On the meaning of the word heredes see Pastor, Reina. “Poder monástico y grupos domésticos foreros”, Poder monástico y grupos domésticos en la Galicia foral (siglos XIIIXIV). La casa. La comunidad, Isabel Alfonso, Reina Pastor, Pablo Sánchez, Ana Rodríguez, eds. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1990: 29-31.

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transactions in favor of the monastery of San Justo and Pastor53. This data reveals the importance and the weight of the knights and the squires for the patrimonial growth of the Benedictine monastery of Toxos Outos. At the same time this element marks a deep difference between Toxos Outos and other Cistercian realities in Galicia. The presence of the knights in the monastery of San Justo and Pastor is more substantial, for example, than that recorded in the sources of the monasteries of Armenteira and Sobrado. In the first case, even if the monastic community could dispose of a large network of contacts with the milites, coming also from northern Portugal, the donations and the land transactions accorded by this social group represents only the 3% of the total amount of the patrimonial acquisition of the Cistercian monks between 1151 and 1250. Even in the case of Sobrado, which received several donations by the Galician knights in the first half of the thirteenth century, the relationships with these families seem to be less intense than those built by Toxos Outos in the same period. The only Cistercian monastery with a position comparable to Toxos Outos, is Monfero especially for its relationships with the knights of Andrade54. Furthermore, the cartulary of Toxos Outos recorded a

53. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 104-693 (docs. No. 55-58, 64, 87, 364, 372, 384, 41-417, 419, 430, 469, 477, 489, 508, 532, 551, 645, 670 and 783). 54. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1751, n. 3; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1752, n. 2; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1754, n. 4; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, n. 5 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1757, n. 2; Donations: AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1752, ns. 14, 15, 17 and 20; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1753, ns. 8, 10, 18, 19, 20 and 21; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, ns. 3, 4, 6 and 19; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1756, ns. 52, 7-10, 13 and 19; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1757, n. 1, 3-5, 13, and 17 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1758, ns. 1 and 4; Sales: AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1753, ns. 5-11, 16, 17, 19 and 20; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1754, ns. 3-5, 7, 12 and 13; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, ns. 1, 5, 7-9 and 18; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1756, ns. 2, 6, 11, 13, 14 and 18; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira,carpeta 1757, ns. 8-10, 12, 14-16, 18 and 19 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1758, n. 2; Alonso, María. El Monasterio de Santa María de Armenteira: documentos conservados hasta 1215. Santiago de Compostela: Universidade de Compostela (Master Dissertation), 1957: 38-108 (docs. No. 9, 12, 16, 17, 20, 25, 28-32, 35, 37, 39-42, 44, 47, 49, 50, 53-55, 54, 58, 59, 60, 62, 66, 67 and 68); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 259- 544 (docs. No. 223, 252, 337, 403, 409, 410, 419, 449 and 645); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 136-348 (docs. No. 112, 258 and 361); AHN. Clero. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 537, n. 14; AHN. Clero. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 540, n. 7 and AHN. Clero. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 541, n. 3/2, 8 and 20; ARG. Pergaminos. Sobrado, n. 109. The Andrade family from a small group of knights of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, became one of the most important Galician families under Fernando Pérez de Andrade III called O Boo (see for the documents López, José Luís. “Relación de la documentación del monasterio de Santa María de Monfero”. Estudios Mindonienses, 18 (2002): 372- 405 (regs. n. 215, 295 and 307 and AHN). Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña, Monfero, carpeta 497 n. 17 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña, Monfero, carpeta 498, n. 1; RAG. Fundo Murguía. Monfero, ns. 02.15.5.5.2/16.0.0.0, 02.17.5.5.2/18.0.0.0, and 02.39.5.3.1/35.0.0.0 and ARG. Pergaminos, Monfero, n. 83). See also López, José Luís. “Fernán Pérez de Andrade III, o Boo. Sus relaciones con la iglesia y el monácato: Monfero y la Granja de Saa”. Cátedra. Revista Eumesa de estudios, 9 (2002): 117- 148. On the Andrade see also Correa, José Francisco. Mentalidade e realidade social na nobreza galega. Os

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balanced distribution of the patrimonial grants (donations and sales) given by milites and scutiferi. The knights made eighteen donations in favor of Toxos Outos between 1135 and 1268, and sixteen land sales between 1144 and 1284, with the addition of three land exchanges between the knights and the Benedictine monks realized in 1245 and in 127655. These land transactions were concentrated in the first half of the thirteenth century, similarly to Armenteira (1214-1249), Sobrado (1201-1247) and Monfero (1215-1257). In the sources of Toxos Outos, in fact, it is possible to record only four donations personally accorded by the local knights during the twelfth century (1135, 1146, 1151, and 1179), and only three sales made respectively in 1144, 1182 and 1185. The number of land transactions realized by the knights in favor of Toxos Outos increased in the first quarter of the thirteenth century; on the remaining thirty documents inserted in the cartulary of the monastery concerning the donations and sales granted by this social group, twenty-six were concentrated in the period 1213-1248. This chronological trend is the concrete proof of the progressive growth of the knights as political interlocutors for the Galician monastic world, as already suggested by the works of E. Pascua Echegaray and A. Rodríguez López for the Cistercian abbeys of Montederramo and Oseira56. A very interesting point is the extraordinary geographical homogeneity of the lands accorded to Toxos Outos by the knights and squires between the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries. The lands granted were all situated between the Land of Santiago, the peninsula of Barbanza in the south-west of the archdiocese of Santiago (and in particular in the nearby of the localities of Boiro and Lousame), and in the territories situated northern of the river Tambre, in the modern province of A Coruña57. Therefore, the lands accorded to Toxos Outos were concentrated

Andrade de Pontedeume (1160-1540). Santiago de Compostela: Universidade de Santiago de Compostela (PhD Dissertation), 2008: 58 and following pages. 55. See footnote 52. 56. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1751, n. 3; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1752, n. 2; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1754, n. 4; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, n. 5 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1757, n. 2; Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 259-544 (docs. No. 223, 252, 337, 403, 409, 410, 419, 449 and 645); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 136-348 (docs. No. 112, 258 and 361); AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 537, n. 14, carpeta 540, n. 7 and AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 541, n. 3/2, 8 and 20; ARG. Pergaminos. Sobrado, n. 109; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 500, n. 14 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 500, n. 19; ARG. Pergaminos. Monfero, ns. 88, 99, 101 and 501; López, José Luís. “Relación de la documentación de Monfero”...: 92-694 (regs. n. 195, 214, 215, 224, 248, 256, 257, 267, 295, 307, 350 and 440); Pascua, Esther. “Vassals and allies in conflict: relations between Santa María de Montederramo and local Galician society in the thirteenth century” and A. Rodríguez, Ana, “Monastic strategy and local relations. The social influence of the monastery of Oseira in the thirteenth century”, Beyond the market...: 27-106 and 173-244. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: docs. No. 48, 53, 82, 95, 121, 164, 182, 294, 224, 269, 270, 296, 355, 395, 396, 419, 486, 532, 551, 578, 619, 678, 679, 680, 682, 690, 691, 694, 703 and 784. 57. Pallares, María del Carmen; Pérez, Francisco Javier; González, Marta; Vaquero, Beatriz. “La tierra de Santiago”...: 131-135. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 92-632 (docs. No. 48, 53, 68, 95, 121, 164, 224, 269, 318, 355, 436, 442, 486, 532, 578, 619, 678, 679, 680, 682, 691 and 703).

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in the western part of the archdiocese of Santiago de Compostela, from the concejo (council) of Boiro, located forty-seven km south-western of the city of Santiago, to the locality of Mazaricos situated fifty-three km north-west from the see of Saint James. This last point marks an interesting difference between Toxos Outos and Sobrado and their relationships with the local lay aristocracy. In the case of San Justo and Pastor these families appear deep-rooted in a very limited area of Galicia where they probably had the most important basis of their patrimony. By contrast, in the case of Sobrado, the Cistercians entered in contact with local families, composed by a mix of landowners and knights like the Transulfiz, whose donations were spread all over the Galician territory, and this support allowed the white monks to extend their patrimony even upon areas where they did not receive privileges from the Traba family58. Significantly, in the sources of Toxos Outos it is possible to notice also a clear separation between the donors and the sellers, with only some rare exceptions59. In other words: the knights “donors” are never “sellers” at the same time60. It is not easy to explain these dynamics, even if the precise division between donors, sellers or tenants of the monastic patrimony, like in the case of Melón, may be attributed to the monks attempt to better administrate their patrimony and to avoid the excessive accumulation of power by the local lay aristocracy in the same monastic lands61. In several cases, the knights exchanged their goods and lands made with horses of high quality owned by the monks of Toxos Outos, in which the local milites were strongly interested62. The sources present a generally wealth social group. Only in one case it is possible to notice specific economic troubles behind this type of land transaction. In 1182, the knight Pedro de Aucteiro sold his hereditas in the villa of Piñeiro for “La solidos de bona moneta”. This property was already pledged to the monastery and this may indicate that the miles Pedro had not been able to give back the loan to the monks and for this reason he decided (or he was obliged to, as specified in other agreements signed by the monks63) to sell his own properties to Toxos Outos64. From the study of the monastic cartulary of San Justo and Pastor and the analysis of donations and sales in its favor, one can also uncover the relationships between Toxos Outos and some local families of knights between the twelfth and the

58. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 74-85. 59. It is the case of Pedro Besezo. I will be back on this knight in this same paragraph. 60. Donors: Pedro Muñiz Carnota, Sarraceno, Pedro Besezo, Alfonso Pérez, Pedro Peláez de Deira, Juan Raimúndez, Raymundo Pérez, Juan Froílaz Mariño, Fernando Yáñez, Fernando Alfonso de Neveiro, Fernando Múñiz, García Pérez Feo, Juan Aanzi, Pedro Fernández Bochón of Noya, and Alfonso Pérez. Sellers: Pedro Besezo, Pedro de Auteiro, Pelagio Arias Geem, García de Anaia, Nuño Díaz, Pedro Peláez de Deira, Pelagio Martínez de Sivis, Fernando Pérez Besezo, Froila Ruiz, Viviano Lorenzo, Lupo Lorenzo, Fernando Muñiz Rubelión, Pelagio Díaz, Arias Martínez, Arias Pérez, Pedro Arias do Souto, Pedro Arias de Souto, and Alfonso Pérez de Ryatelo. 61. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 236-249. 62. See Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 109-113. 63. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 109-111. See as example Pérez, Francisco Javier, Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 292 (doc. No. 280). 64. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 305 (doc. No. 294).

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thirteenth centuries. One of the most significant examples is the group of theBesezo . The first member of this group mentioned in the sources of Toxos Outos was Odoario Martínez married with Guntrode Muñiz, who left her last will to the monastery of Toxos Outos in 1139. The couple had one son called Pedro Odoariz the first of the family to be named Besezo in the sources. F. J. Pérez Rodríguez associated the name Besezo with the territory of the church of San Juan de Luaña in Galicia (twenty-five km west of Santiago de Compostela), that might be the place of provenance of this family or an area connected to their patrimony. The miles Pedro Odoariz entered in contact for the first time with Toxos Outos in 1144 when he sold his properties located in Cerquides, Birtilli and Pastoriza to the monastery for six silver marks. The contacts between Pedro and the abbey continued in the second half of the twelfth century, when the knight accorded to the monks of Toxos Outos his lands of Busto, Béxeres and the third part of his patrimony in the locality of San Martín de Lesende. Pedro was married with a woman named Mayor Díaz and they had two daughters and two sons. The daughters were Mayor Pérez, married with the miles Nuño Díaz, and Urraca Pérez married with a man called Fernando Gimaraz, and both women made land transactions in favor of Toxos Outos (one sell, and one donation) in 1201 and in 1210. In the cartulary there is no information about Pedro Odoariz Besezo and Mayor Díaz’s son, Odoario Pérez, while Pedro Pérez Besezo together with his wife Marina Pérez donated some lands to Toxos Outos in the locality of Luaña. Pedro and Marina had two sons, Juan and Fernando and both entered in the abbey of Toxos Outos as monks. This is a very interesting point for two reasons: at first it is significant that both Juan and Fernando Pérez Besezo were not trained for the military life, but both were destined to the ecclesiastical career. Secondly, the presence of Juan and Fernando as monks is a further demonstration of the tight relationships of this family with the monastery. Even as monks both brothers maintained their contacts with the local milites: in 1248, for example, Fernando and Juan signed an agreement with the knight Nuño Núñez and his brother Pedro Núñez of Noia for some lands owned by the monastery in the locality of Leroño65. The case of Juan and Fernando Pérez Besezo is similar to that of Juan Froílaz, magister grangiae of the monastery of Sobrado. Juan Froílaz was a member of the Heriz family, a group linked and promoted by the Cistercian monastery66. Fernando and Juan had also one sister, Maria (nicknamed de Sisto): she was married with a man called Pedro Valeyron, and her two sons, Pedro and Martín Pérez Besezo got both in touch with San Justo and Pastor of Toxos Outos in the third quarter of the thirteenth century67.

65. In the sources there are other men nicknamed Besezo, not connected to this family see Pérez, Francisco Javier, Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 239-649 (docs. No. 213, 364, 384, 396, 430, 431, 486, 516, 532, 536, 569, 619, 639, 640, 645 and 725). See Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 109-113. 66. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 85. 67. Pérez, Francesco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 595-596 (doc. No. 652). There is a third son of María de Sisto, Pedro Muñiz, who for his difference patronymic, maybe was born from one other husband of Maria.

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Another important group of knights was that connected to the knight, dominus Juan Froílaz Mariño. Juan was a very powerful miles, in contact with King Fernando II of León and the monastery of San Payo de Antealtares (situated in the city of Santiago de Compostela), who granted an important donation to Toxos Outos in 1219. The sons and the daughters of dominus Juan Froílaz Mariño and his wife Urraca Fernández are all mentioned in the sources of Toxos Outos. Most of them gave lands and goods or joined agreements with the monastery (in particular domina Marina Yáñez Mariño and dominus Pelagio Yáñez Mariño and his wife Mayor Fernández nicknamed Churruchua), and another one —Osorio Yáñez Mariño— made a successful ecclesiastical career becoming canon in the cathedral Chapter of Santiago de Compostela. The members of the Mariño family were powerful enough to be a reference for the patrimonial agreements of other local families. For example in 1231 dominus Juan Yáñez Mariño, son of the knight dominus Juan Froílaz, was authorized by dominus Pedro Romeu to modify his testament, to prevent to Pedro Romeu’s sister, María Fernández, taking possession of the lands of Outeiro Donego, that dominus Juan Yáñez Mariño would grant to the Benedictine monastery of Toxos Outos68. The cases of these two families connected to San Justo and Pastor seem to confirm the characteristics of several Galician families of knights of the first half of the thirteenth century, which are also possible to observe through the study of the Cistercian sources of Sobrado, Melón and Meira. The Besezo and the Mariño got in touch for several decades with one monastic community which constituted a reference for their patrimonial strategy, but at the same time they were able to have relationships with other monastic communities or ecclesiastical institutions. For example, this is this the case of the Heriz family and the monastery of Sobrado; of the knights of Bolaño in touch with the Cistercian monastery of Meira and the bishops of Lugo69; in the case of Toxos Outos, the miles Juan Aanzi granted goods to the monastery of Toxos Outos and simultaneously in the first half of the thirteenth century he was one of the few Galician knights that entered in contact with the Cistercian monastery of Melón in the diocese of Tui70. These examples show the ability of these knights to manage their interests in different Galician areas. These families also organized marriages between them or with other members of the same social group (as I previously mentioned, one daughter of Pedro Odoariz Besezo was married to one miles), like in the parental connection between the Transulfiz and the Gelmírez, two families mentioned in the sources of Sobrado71. At the same time these families of knights or landowners were deeply interested in promoting their members for the monastic career differently from of the biggest aristocratic family like the Traba. In despite of their donations to Sobrado only one male member of the family of the Counts of Galicia entered in the Cistercian community as a monk, Vermudo Pérez, while smaller families like the

68. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 41-693 (docs. No. 17, 18, 24, 48, 49, 55-58, 483, 118, 69, 670, 689 and 783). 69. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 74-84 and 172-182. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 618 (doc. No. 684). 70. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 236-249. 71. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 83.

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Transulfiz and the Heriz in several occasions inserted their members in the monastery as monks or lay-brothers. These men made an interesting trajectory in the monastic community becoming cellerarius (the economic responsible of the abbey), prior, or master of the grange (grangiarius or magister grangiae)72. In the case of Toxos Outos, several families of knights or local heredes inserted their members in the archbishopric of Compostela (as in the cases of Alfonso Pinzán and Gudesteo Gudestei who were both canons, one in the Cathedral Chapter of Compostela and the other in the Santiagan church of Santa María de Sar73), and one member of the Mariño family, Sancho Yáñez, grandson of the knight dominus Juan Froílaz Mariño, was even abbot of Toxos Outos between 1267 and 128974.

4. Agreements and Familiaritas

In the cartulary of Toxos Outos there are five typologies of agreements between the monks and the knights: life estates, house building, land management, mortgages and agreements to solve patrimonial conflicts. In the first case the life estate seems to be one of the most common agreements signed between monks and knights75. In the sources it is possible to notice fourteen concessions in life estate to milites, armigeri and scutiferi by the monks of Toxos Outos76, which represent the 30% of all these typologies of agreements established by the monastic community during the thirteenth century77. The sources of Toxos Outos show different types of life estate agreements. In several cases this pact was connected to a donation or a sell in favor of the monastery. This is the case, for example, of the miles García de Anaia, who in 1208 donated his goods to Toxos Outos, together with those owned by his brothers, Martín and Rui, in the localities of Esteiro and Lestón, obtaining the right to benefit of these lands for the rest of his life78. In other circumstances the concession in life estate of some goods or lands was connected to the promise of the knights to give further donations to the monastery or to restrain from attacking the properties of Toxos Outos. The first one is the case of MunioFranquiño , called in the source

72. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 78-85. 73. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 123; 505-506 (docs. No. 73 and 533). 74. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 107-697 (docs. No. 58, 90, 177, 185, 436, 441, 442, 475, 487, 550, 617, 789) and page 9. In the sources there is no direct reference to Sancho Yáñez as son of Juan Yáñez Mariño, even if he was the rector and completor of Juan Yáñez Mariño’s testament (doc. No. 58), together with Juan’s wife (María Martínez). This role as a rector of the testament maybe encouraged F. J. Pérez Rodríguez to consider Sancho as a member of the Mariño family. 75. See Pastor, Reina. “Poder monástico...”: 35-36. 76. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 99-640 (docs. No. 53, 56, 57, 68, 121, 184, 189, 261, 296, 313, 544, 652, 679 and 715). 77. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 54-685 (docs. No. 30, 31, 53, 56, 57, 68, 69, 75, 121, 166, 184, 189, 190, 192, 203, 214, 238, 261, 282, 283, 291, 296, 302, 310, 313, 358, 360, 389, 390, 403, 418, 427, 431, 440, 453, 457, 461, 513, 574, 611, 648, 650, 652, 679, 689, 706, 714, 715 and 771). 78. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 163-164 (doc. No. 121).

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«miles monasterii», who received some lands in Comoxo in life estate in 1223 from the monks of Toxos Outos, but with the promise to give the monastic community his portion of the patrimony connected to the church of San Salvador of Comoxo and his personal goods situated in the locality of Quintanela79. Another typology of agreement between monks and knights concerns the house building. The monastic community of the archdiocese of Compostela signed this type of agreement with a knight called Pedro Pérez nicknamed Gatiño. Pedro was a member of another family of milites in touch with Toxos Outos since the twelfth century, connected to Sarracenus and Ermesenda Muñiz80. In 1251, on behalf of his wife María Yáñez and his brother Rui Gatiño, Pedro Gatiño exchanged his properties in Villaverde and Santa María de Roo for the monastic lands owned by the Benedictines in Alfonsín, while Pedro received one hundred and twenty Leonese coins81 to build a house in Alfonsín, but without the right to sell it or to have any economic advantage on it82. The monastic community of Toxos Outos also offered economic support to knights and squires according them mortgages or monetary loans, as in the case of the miles Pedro de Auteiro, that in 1186 pledged his goods located in Bastavales for eighty coin, the equivalent of fifteen silver marks (a coin of three hundred and twenty-four grams of weight83) as explained in the document84. The tight economic relationships between the monastery and the knights is also demonstrated by the grant of lands to administrate on behalf of the monastery. For example, in 1200 the monastic community granted the knight dominus Adam Muñiz some lands for cattle breeding in exchange of an annual monetary fee85. With regard to this point, one document is particularly significant. In 1261 the monks of Toxos Outos established an agreement with the scutifer Pedro Pérez Besezo and his brother, the knight Martín86. The two brothers decided to suspend every conflict with the monastery (in the source the reason of this contrast is not explicit) and the monks decided to reinforce this pact by granting them the entire administration of the grange of Cornanda87.

79. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 640-641 (doc. No. 715). 80. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 374-549 (docs. No. 372, 415-417, 419, 425, 477, 544, 548, 551, 565, 569 and 588). Sarracenus and Ermesinda granted several donations to Toxos Outos and they had one daughter —Mayor—, and three sons Pedro, Arias, and Munio Sarraceni. This last one was the father of Pedro Muñiz Gato, the father of Pedro Pérez Gatiño, and of his brothers Gómez, Juan, Gil, Rui (or Rodrigo), and Fernando, and his sister Sancha Pérez, all in contact with the monastery of Toxos Outos in the thirteenth century. 81. On the currencies mentioned in the sources of Toxos Outos see Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 28-30. 82. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 514-515 (doc. No. 544). 83. On the currencies in the medieval Iberian Peninsula see Mínguez, Julio. “Moneda medieval en el Reino de León. Análisis de términos monetarios en la documentación del archivo de la Catedral de León (711-1252)”. Ab initio, 1 (2011): 11-68 and Fuentes, Enrique. “Moneda y crédito en el Reino de León”. Pecunia, 5 (2007): 53-86. 84. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 163-164 (doc. No. 121). 85. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 628 (doc. No. 698). 86. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 595-596 (doc. No. 652). They were members of the Besezo family, see the previous paragraph. 87. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 595-596 (doc. No. 652).

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In the Cistercian sources of Armenteira and Sobrado there is no evidence of any agreement of this kind88. In the archive of Meira there are some pacts between monks and knights to manage some portions of the monastic patrimony, but there is no evidence of the administration of an entire grange granted to the local milites, like in the case of Toxos Outos89. Although the strong presence of the knights in the patrimony, the sources of Toxos Outos show, like in the case of Sobrado90, a low tension between the monks and the milites. In the cartulary of Toxos Outos there are only a few references to attacks against the monastic patrimony led by the knights in the first half of the thirteenth century and in every case these conflicts were solved soon after, generally by a donation of the milites to refund the monks for their damages91. The relationships were so good that in one case, in 1249, the monks of Toxos Outos delimited the border of the lands of Deira directly by collaborating with three local knights92. In the same period, instead, several Cistercian monasteries were in conflict with the social group represented by knights and squires. Between 1223 and 1237, the monastery of Meira had to face many conflicts with the local knights, extended also to the urban centers of the diocese in Lugo, like in the case of the contrasts between the Cistercians of Meira and the knight Juan Pan for the control of Tabulata93. Examples of the tension between the white monks and the local milites can be found in the second quarter of the thirteenth century, when King Alfonso IX of León directly intervened in favor of the monastery of Oia, in the diocese of Tui, to stop the local knights, vassals of the monastery, from building independent networks of allies in the monastic patrimony or any other pact (called «forum» in the source94) without the consent of the Cistercian abbot95. Significantly, in nine cases in the cartulary of Toxos Outos, the knights are called familiares or amici of the monastic community. The milites or their relatives are qualified by the monks as members of the monasticfamily always after patrimonial

88. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1751, n. 2. See Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 404-405 (doc. No. 449) and ARG. Pergaminos, Sobrado, n. 109. 89. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 236-239. 90. Renzi, Francesco. “Aristocrazia e monachesimo in Galizia nei secoli XII e XIII: la famiglia Froilaz- Traba e i cistercensi. Ipotesi di ricerca”. Bullettino dell’Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, 115 (2013): 209-228. 91. See for example Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 361-598 (docs. No. 357, 606 and 657). 92. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 623 (doc. No. 690). 93. Domínguez, María. El Monasterio de Santa María de Meira y su colección diplomática. Madrid: Universidad de Zaragoza (PhD Dissertation), 1952: docs. No. 340, 362, 392, 397, 418, 422, 423, 492, 517, 528, 580, 587 and 606; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Lugo. Meira, carpeta 1132, n. 12 and AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Lugo. Meira, carpeta 1133, n. 3. Barton, Simon. The aristocracy...: 320-322 (doc. No. 12). 94. On the foro contract (or placitum), see in particular Ríos, María L. “Estrategias señoriales en Galicia: las instituciones eclesiásticas y sus relaciones contractuales con la nobleza laica (1150-1350)”. Semata, 4 (1992): 175-189 and Ríos, María de Luz. As orixes do foro na Galicia medieval. Santiago de Compostela: Monografías da Universidade de Santiago de Compostela, 174, 1993: 169-172, 196 e 220. Pastor, Reina. “Poder monástico...”: 55. 95. Sánchez, Luís. Documentos reales...: 275 (reg. n. 625).

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agreements, especially the life estate, as in the case of the Gatiño and Mariño families96. Familiaritas and amicitia in the monastic Galician sources seem to indicate a special and personal connection between the monks and the knight, even if it is not easy to define exactly its nature and its implications. In the case of the monastery of Melón, for example, it is possible to distinguish the condition of familiaris/amicus from that of “vassal” of the monastery97. The first word indicated a special relationships (often both material and spiritual) between the laymen and monks, while the term vassal (especially in the foro documents) is connected to a detailed list of rights and duties towards the monastic community98. In the cartulary of Toxos Outos the term vassal is less clear than in the Cistercian sources. In the cartulary of Toxos Outos is impossible to find a precise difference between these two words.Familiaris and vassals are used after a donation made to refund the monastery of the damages caused to the monastic patrimony; twice after agreements for land management; once after a life estate pact; once after the entry of a layman called Ramiro Alfonso in the monastery. In one case these two words are combined together to define the tight relationships between Mayor Muñiz and the monastic community of San Justo and Pastor in 120899. What is possible to notice is that these qualifications were accorded by the monks in a very limited number of cases (selected and recorded in the liber familiarum of Toxos Outos quoted in the sources of the monastery of the twelfth century100) and not automatically granted to all the knights donors or sellers: this strategy imply a social selection led by the monks, a policy where the knights constituted an important reference, differently from the example of the Cistercian of Melón which refused to have any Galician miles among his familiars or vassals in the first half of the thirteenth century101.

5. Last wills and burials

In the case of Toxos Outos many knights of the archdiocese of Compostela decided to commit their soul to the Benedictines monks. In the cartulary of Toxos Outos, in

96. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 99-652 (docs. No. 53, 64, 121, 184, 190, 313, 544, 715 and 729). 97. For the use of these terms in medieval Castile see Álvarez, Ignacio. “Vasallos, oficiales, clientes y parientes. Sobre la jerarquía y las relaciones internobiliarias en la Castilla medieval (c. 1100-1350). Una aproximación a partir de las fuentes documentales”. Hispania. Revista Española de Historia, 70/235 (2010): 359-390. 98. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 245-246. 99. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 203-534 (docs. No. 170, 203, 440, 468 and 568). 100. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 252 (doc. No. 228). In 1152 Pelayo Fernández after a donation to Toxos Outos asked to the monks to write and to register his name in the libro familiarum of Toxos Outos. 101. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 245, where I criticized the conclusion of Martínez, José. “Mosteiro de Santa María de Melón”. Pontevedra. Revista de estudios provinciais, 14 (1999): 152-159.

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fact, are recorded the last wills of many knights and squires who between the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries entered in contact with the monastery102, like in the cases of Juan Froílaz Mariño (called «Senex» in the cartulary of Toxos Outos), García Pérez Feo, or Pedro Fernández Bochón of Noia103. The last wills of the milites constituted around the 10% of the total number of testaments recorded in the archive of Toxos Outos. The total amount of testaments in favor of the monastery is really high, one hundred and ninety-four documents of this type, more than any other Galician Cistercian monastery in the archdiocese of Compostela between 1150 and 1250104. The last wills were very important instruments for the monastery to reinforce its connections —social, patrimonial and spiritual— with both lay and ecclesiastical aristocracy, and Toxos Outos seems to have constituted for the local military families an important reference from this point of view105. As for the donations or sales in favor of the monastery, the number of last wills recorded in the monastic cartulary increased in the first half of the thirteenth century, while for the twelfth century it is possible to find only two testaments. The first one by Diego Muñiz relative of the archbishop of Compostela Diego Gelmírez (1151)106 and the second one by a man called Pedro Seco (1158)107. These two testaments are very significant because of their general structure, which is very similar to that of the testaments of the thirteenth century. First of all, in these two documents it is possible to find the two main reasons which encouraged the milites to approach Toxos Outos for their last wills: departures for wars (as in the case of the knight Diego Muñiz) or pilgrimages, or deep illness as in the case of Pedro Seco (gravi infirmitate). After this first declaration, it is usually indicated the place for the burial and eventually the economic cost of the funeral (even if in four cases in the sources it is not indicated where these milites decided to be buried or where their relatives were inhumed); the list of goods, rights or rents derived from tax payment granted to Toxos Outos (these donations were often accompanied by the expression pro remedio anime mee et parentum meorum); and in the end grants or patrimonial dispositions in favor of single persons or relatives of the knight, a practice that helps to understand the genealogies and the composition

102. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 109-115. 103. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 101-569 (docs. No. 54, 297 and 617). 104. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 121-702 (docs. No. 70, 72-74, 77, 79, 91, 93, 98, 100, 104, 106, 107, 110, 112-114, 123, 148-150, 152-155, 165-167, 171-173, 176, 178, 187, 188, 193-201, 210, 213, 216-218, 220, 225, 230, 235, 254, 258, 259, 267, 295, 297, 300, 322, 325, 332, 351, 352, 354, 356-358, 362, 363, 374, 377-381, 383-386, 391, 397-400, 402, 412-414, 416, 420-422, 428, 429, 432-434, 439, 443, 445, 447-450, 455, 459, 460, 481, 484, 488, 491, 503-506, 520, 527, 528, 538- 540, 543, 553, 563, 566, 570, 580, 588, 597, 598, 602, 605, 607, 615, 617, 625, 627, 628, 631, 633, 634, 636, 640, 646, 647, 649, 651, 653-657, 664, 666, 668-670, 672, 673, 677, 684-686, 688, 692, 694, 695, 697, 705-708, 712, 768-770, 772, 776, 778, 780 and 795). 105. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 31-34. 106. Pérez, Francisco Javier. O mosteiro dos santos Xusto e Pastor de Toxos Outos...: 109-115. 107. Pedro gave to the monastery his luctuosa (a tax on horses and weapons paid by the aristocrats), see Ayala, Carlos de. Las órdenes militares hispánicas en la edad media (siglos XII-XV). Madrid: Marcial Pons Historia, 2003: 222 and 687.

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of these families108. In particular, thirteenth century knights’ and squires’ last wills are among the more detailed texts contained in the cartulary of Toxos Outos, and these sources clearly show the importance of these families, their networks on the territory, and the convergence or the discrepancy between the religious and the material relationships of the knights towards the Benedictine monks of San Justo and Pastor. I will examine one interesting example: the knight Juan Froílaz Mariño’s testament. The testament of this knight is an extraordinary source. In fact, it is not possible to find such a detailed document about a localmiles of the beginning of the thirteenth century in the charters of the Cistercian monasteries of Sobrado, Armenteira or Monfero of the Cluniac abbey of Xubia (in the diocese of Mondoñedo), or in the cartulary and charters of the Benedictine monastery of Celanova for the same period109. The document shows the huge patrimony accumulated by Juan Froílaz during his life, his familiar relationships and his political connections on the territory, as it is also demonstrated by the donations made by Juan to his local clientes, like in the case of Carlos («Karulo» in the source) named in Juan’s testament. What is really impressive is Juan’s partnership with the Galician ecclesiastical institutions. First of all, Juan decided to be buried in the Santiagan monastery of Antealtares. Juan also granted the monastery the church and its entire patrimony of San Martín de Taurinaa (Touriñán, in proximity of the town of Muxia in northern Galicia), his hereditates situated in Nemancos (area north west of Santiago de Compostela), his lands of Sueyro (Suevos), twenty horses, one rouncey, one mule, his bed with its supply and one silver bowl. In particular Juan made a special donation for the abbot of the monastery: one rouncey, three cuirasses, two wool cloaks (called «alfamares», a word of Arabic origin110) and one mantle. The knight Juan donated also two hundred coins to Antealtares to have the prayers of the Benedictine monks for his soul; he gave also the huge amount of one thousand coins to organize his funeral and his

108. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 136-682 (docs. No. 87, 88, 161, 165, 176, 322, 633, 688 and 766). 109. Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 226-486 (docs. No. 184, 185, 187, 189, 191, 210, 214, 230, 241, 249, 306, 317, 318, 447, 480, 482, 523, 525 and 556); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 184-239 (docs. No. 173, 336 and 337); AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 541, n. 20. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1750, n. 8; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1752, n. 15; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, ns. 13, 16 and 21 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1756, n. 10; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 497, ns. 2, 4 and 15; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 498, n. 4; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 499, ns. 4 and 10 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 500, ns. 2 and 8; Montero, Santiago. La colección diplomática de san Martín de Jubia. Madrid: El Eco Franciscano, 1935: 58-73 (docs. No. 18, 19 and 24). In the cartulary are recorded only testaments of the tenth and eleventh centuries, see Andrade, José Miguel. O tombo de Celanova...: 1-322 (docs. No. 1, 21 and 228). For the testaments in the late middle Ages see the work of Otero, Pablo; García, Miguel. “Los testamentos como fuente para la historia social de la nobleza. Un ejemplo metodológico: tres mandas de los Valladares del siglo XV”. Cuadernos de Estudios Gallegos, 60/126 (2013): 125-169. 110. García, Xosé. Arabismos nel dominiu llingüísticu ástur. Oviedo: Academia de la Lengua Asturiana, 2006: 113.

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burial. He disposed to grant part of this monetary amount in favor of the canons and the monks of Antealtares and a last portion was destined to help the poors. Dominus Juan in his last will explained that if the money was not enough for these purposes, the monks of Antealtares were authorized to use the three thousand additional coins kept by the monks of Toxos Outos. This detail shows how also San Justo and Pastor was an important reference for the patrimonial management of Juan’s goods. This good relationship is proved by the numerous remunerations granted by the knight in his testament in favor of Toxos Outos: lands, churches, horses, hand tools, one hundred coins and even a purple mantle. The relationships between Juan and the Galician ecclesiastical world were not limited to Antealtares and Toxos Outos (Juan Froílaz Mariño nominated the abbots of these monasteries custodians of his testament): the miles of the archdiocese of Compostela granted donations to the Cathedral Chapter of Santiago, the Cistercian monastery of Armenteira, to the archdeacon of Trastámara, the monastery of San Martín de Pinario and San Pedro de Fora, to San Lorenzo de Trasouto111 and to the monastery of Morame112. In the case of the abbey of San Martín de Ozón113, Juan Froílaz Mariño even donated to this abbey his Muslim slave called Mohammed («Mafometh» in the text)114. Even in the case of the Mariño family, the descendant kept in touch with the monastery of Toxos Outos. For example, in 1271 in his testament Juan Yáñez Mariño left a huge monetary amount to Toxos Outos, but differently from his father he decided also to be buried in the cemetery of San Justo and Pastor115. These rich testaments confirmed the conclusions drawn from the analysis of the land transactions in favor of Toxos Outos mentioned above. These families were deeply rooted in the archdiocese of Compostela and the knights were able to build relationships with more than a monastery also choosing one institution for their religious dimension (burial and prayers), and other ecclesiastical institutions to manage or distribute their patrimony, like in the case of the knight Arias Fernández, who in 1242 asked to be buried in the church of San Miguel de Castanella and donated at the same time some goods to Toxos Outos116. The knightly group did not seem to necessarily have any preference for a particular Order, spreading their risks through their donations by sponsoring several monasteries. This behavior is not different from that of the biggest aristocratic families like the Traba during the twelfth century. For example, Count Fernando Pérez, despite his significant number of donations in favor of the Cistercian monks of Sobrado, decided to be buried in the Cathedral of Compostela (probably for its prestige) like his father Count Pedro Froílaz, and

111. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 852. 112. Freire, José. El monacato gallego en la alta edad Media. A Coruña: Fundación Pedro Barrié de la Maza, 1998, I: 524. 113. Freire, José. El monacato...: 193. 114. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 101-104 (doc. No. 54). 115. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 107-109 (doc. No. 58). 116. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 434 (doc. No. 445). On the church of Castanella (quoted in the Historia Compostelana) see the work of López, Antonio. Historia de la Santa a. m. iglesia de Santiago de Compostela. Santiago de Compostela: Impr. del Seminario Conciliar Central, 1900: III, 173.

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his daughter Urraca Fernández in 1199117. In any case the milites of north-western Galicia in several occasions seemed to have juxtaposed their spiritual exigencies and their patrimonial strategies: the 70% of the testaments (among those with precise indication of the place of burial) show how the knights decided to commit their good and their body for the burial together with their spiritual care to the monks of Toxos Outos118.

6. Milites as Confirmantes: a clue of social cohesion?

I would like to briefly stress the accent on a final aspect, that is to say the role of the knights and squires as confirmantes in the sources of the monastery of San Justo and Pastor119. In the cartulary of Toxos Outos, there are seventy-three knights confirming the documents of the monastery120. The milites were often present at the land transactions agreements in favor of the Benedictines monks or their agreements with the local population121. This activity of the knights was very common in Galicia, especially in the Cistercian abbeys situated in the archdiocese of Compostela. In the charters of the monastery of Armenteira are recorded forty- four knights as confirmantes of the acts of the monastery between 1214 and 1249; sixty-four knights and two squires in the case of Sobrado between 1177 and 1248; in the sources of Monfero are noticed twenty-three milites and six armigeri between 1170 and 1257122.

117. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi...: 72-73. 118. See for example Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 224-445 (docs. No. 196, 297, 432 and 460). 119. On this aspect see Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia: Power, Order, and the Written Word 1000-1200. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2004: 105 and following pages. 120. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 99-697 (docs. No. 53, 54, 56, 58, 64, 65, 68, 83, 93, 104, 106, 147, 150, 166, 192, 263, 277, 294, 296, 302, 303, 346, 356, 365, 373, 393, 395, 425, 441, 447, 467, 475, 476, 490, 491, 493, 497, 499, 506, 536, 550, 568, 576, 616, 652, 669, 678, 679, 686, 688, 690, 723, 742, 745, 764, 771, 773 and 789). 121. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 42-697 (docs. No. 19, 48, 53, 56-58, 63-65, 68, 72, 83, 89, 93, 95, 703, 102, 106, 111, 118, 127, 147, 164, 166, 176, 184, 189, 190, 192, 196, 224, 236, 263, 266, 268, 272, 279, 282, 296, 297, 302, 303, 307, 344, 346, 349, 354, 355, 356, 361, 378, 385, 393, 395, 403, 414, 422, 425, 432, 445, 460, 467, 476, 493, 497, 499, 513, 530, 536, 548, 569, 576, 596, 616, 627, 629, 643, 645, 652, 669, 678, 679, 681, 684, 686, 688, 690, 691, 694, 760, 764, 771, 773, 783 and 789). 122. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1753, ns. 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 16, 18-20 and 21; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1754, ns. 4, 6, 8 and 14; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1755, ns. 5, 6, 14 and 18; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1756, ns. 6, 8, 18 and 21 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. Pontevedra. Armenteira, carpeta 1757, ns. 2, 4-6, 9, 10 and 14-16; Alonso, María. Armenteira...: 105-108 (docs. No. 65, 66 and 68); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: I, 254-462 (docs. No. 217, 229, 230, 232-234, 249, 255, 285, 389, 403, 452, 468, 543, 561 and 585); Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbo del monasterio de Sobrado...: II, 215-462 (docs. No. 204, 346, 360, 474, 476 and 530); AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 530, ns. 9 and 20; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado,

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If on the one hand this is another proof of the strong connection between the Benedictine monks of San Justo and Pastor and this social group, on the other hand it is very interesting to notice that the same knights often confirmed the documents of other milites of the archdiocese of Compostela. In the sources of Toxos Outos of the first half of the thirteenth century there are at least twenty-six charters where it is possible to observe these dynamics. For example, the milites confirmed in several cases donations or sales of other knights in favor of Toxos Outos, like in the cases of García Froílaz, Juan Muñiz de Vialo, Martín Muñiz Falcón, and García Gorga who confirmed the donation ofdominus Juan Froílaz Mariño to San Justo and Pastor in 1219; in the case of Pelagio Díaz nicknamed Mosca; the squires García Pérez and Alfonso Pérez de Berres, who were confirmantes in the donation to Toxos Outos made by the knight García Pérez Feo. Many knights confirmed also agreement signed by the monastery —for example Pedro, nicknamed Gordo, a squire coming from Deira; Munio Froílaz, Pedro Faupa, Pedro Gudestei, Diego Salvatoriz; Lorenzo Pérez; Fernando Feo and Suero Ade—, and in several occasions they also confirmed the disposition of other knights in many testaments recorded in the cartulary of Toxos Outos. These are the cases of the last wills of the knights Pedro Pérez called Lobarro, Arias Pérez de Veeru, García Pérez Feo, Pedro Yáñez de Busto, Fernando Pérez nicknamed Testa, Juan Aanzi, and Fernando Pérez de Deira. This practice involved also the most important families of milites in touch with the monastery of Toxos Outos like in the case of the family of the knight Pedro Arias de Veeru. Cross-referencing the land transactions, the last wills and the escatocollo (the final part of the document) of the sources contained in the cartulary of Toxos Outos also reveals other direct connections between these knights of western Galicia (as demonstrated by the connection between the knights Pedro Besezo and Juan Raimúndez and the descendant of Pedro Arias de Veeru), or patrimonial relationships, like in the case of Juan Froílaz Mariño who disposed of some hereditates previously owned by Pedro Seco123. This data seems to show that in the first half of the thirteenth century, probably thanks to the attractive policies led by the monks of Toxos Outos, the local knights started to constitute a more structured social groups than in the twelfth century when in the sources of the monasteries of the archdiocese of Compostela these contacts were less frequent or intense. How to explain this big social change? The sources

carpeta 532, ns. 4 and 21; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 533, n. 10; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 534, ns. 9 and 16; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 535, n. 17; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 536, n. 16; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 537, ns. 7 and 10; AHN. Clero. Secular- Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 538, n. 3; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 540, ns. 5, 7, 9, 16 and 17 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Sobrado, carpeta 541, ns. 1, 2, 5, 12 and 19. AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 497, n. 14; AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 499, ns. 1, 2, 4 and 16 and AHN. Clero. Secular-Regular. A Coruña. Monfero, carpeta 500, ns. 1, 2, 3, 6-9, 14 and 19; RAG. Fundo Murguía. Pergaminos. Monfero, n. 02.15.5.5.2/18.0.0.0; ARG. Pergaminos. Monfero, ns. 88, 99 and 501. 123. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 92-623 (docs. No. 48, 54, 64, 65, 72, 89, 164, 189, 224, 297, 307, 355, 432, 467, 652, 684, 688 and 691).

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pose an additional question: were the cartularies produced in the thirteenth century an attempt of self-representation of this social group? The production of the cartulary of Toxos Outos was ordered by the abbot Sancho coming from the Mariño family; in the case of Sobrado in the cartulary written around the first half of the thirteenth century, the genealogies of the knights which inserted their members in the monastery (like the Transulfiz or the Heriz), occupy an important place in the cartulary of the Cistercian abbey124. This was not a mere coincidence and I believe that the members of these families, once monks or lay-brothers, used the monastic cartularies to collect their genealogies and their memory. For this reason, not only medieval cartularies of the thirteenth century can be read as an instrument for trials or to rationalize the patrimonial structure of a monastic community, but also as a source to study the social changes in lay society125.

7. Conclusions

In these pages, I examined the relationships between the Benedictine monks of San Justo and Pastor de Toxos Outos and the local knights. The documents contained in the cartulary of the monastery of the archdiocese of Compostela show that while the milites played the role of donors, their relationships with the monastery were much more intense, as they were an important ally for the monastic community. At the same time Toxos Outos become for many knights a reference for their burials and their spiritual exigencies, as demonstrated by the numerous requests for prayers to the monks by the local aristocratic groups. The Benedictines monks of Toxos Outos were very well capable to go on competing and copying with the loss of royal and high aristocratic support by shifting their attention to the knightly class. The monastery of San Justo and Pastor was similar, for many reasons, to other Cistercian abbeys like Armenteira, Oseira, Oia, Oseira and Montederramo. However, it is important not to extend the “model” represented by Sobrado to all the other monasteries belonging to the Order of Cîteaux in Galicia. The huge and rapid development of Sobrado constituted a serious problem for the archbishops of Compostela, the Cluniacs of Xubia, the Military Orders and the same Cistercian monasteries. For these reasons it is better to avoid suggesting any mechanistic relationship between the development of Toxos Outos —and its geographically limited patrimony— and the affirmation of Sobrado in the thirteenth century. Toxos Outos accumulated patrimony perfectly comparable to those of other Galician Cistercians monasteries: one of the most important —Melón— mainly built its patrimony only in the bishopric of Tui, but this has not been considered as a limit for its importance by historiography. At the same time the sources of Toxos Outos help to examine

124. Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 74-88. 125. See the considerations of Bouchard, Constance. “Monastic cartularies: organizing eternity, Charters”, Cartularies and Archives. Preservation and Transmission of Documents in the Medieval West, Adam Kosto, Anders Winroth, eds. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2002: 2-32.

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in depth the military aristocracy in the north western Iberian Peninsula and its progressive growth in the first half of the thirteenth century in the same years of the decline of the Traba, the arrival of new families connected to the Leonese Crown and of a general change in the local political and social balances126. These knights deeply rooted in the territory show some interesting characteristics very similar to those of the Traba and the higher aristocracy, but were these local knights imitating the highest aristocratic families? It is important to remember that even the Traba in the second half of the eleventh century were a small group of milites controlling some lands in northern Galicia between Compostela and Mondoñedo. So, it seems that similar characteristics were typical of the Iberian military aristocracy. What was its evolution in the late middle Ages; what was exactly the role played by the ecclesiastical institutions in the promotions of this social group and whether these families with military specialization were able to make the same social climbing realized by the Traba between the eleventh and the twelfth centuries are questions still open to debate. My future research will seek to answer some of those questions through the study of how the Church, the monastic orders and the aristocracies and élites interacted in the medieval Iberian Peninsula.

126. Pérez, Francisco Javier. Os documentos de Toxos Outos...: 101-546 (docs. No. 54, 83, 154, 212, 278, 333, 338, 342, 373, 403, 422, 522 and 583). See Renzi, Francesco. I monaci bianchi in Galizia...: 97-125 and 262-269; Rodríguez, Ana. “Monastic strategy...”: 183-192. See also Sánchez, Pablo. “Monasticism, Lineage, and Community: collective organization in medieval Galician society (San Pedro de Ramiranes, 1200-1300)”, Beyond the Market...: 115-116.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 225-252 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.10 THE ROLE OF THE EUCHARIST IN THE MAKING OF AN ECCLESIOLOGY ACCORDING TO HAIMO OF AUXERRE’S COMMENTARY ON I Cor

Alfonso hernández Universidad de la Defensa Nacional- Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones Científicas y Técnicas Argentina

Date of receipt: 17th of February, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 11th of February, 2015

Abstract

Carolingian biblical exegesis presents itself as a synthesis of exegetical and theological patristic tradition in order to make it affordable to the Christians of that time. The result of that process are interpretations of biblical texts that can be considered new, though based on the texts of the Fathers. Among them it is possible to find images of the Church containing ideas about power or how to govern and to order society. This paper studies Haimo of Auxerre’s commentary on I Cor 12, 12 et seq in order to establish the author’s concept of ’body of Christ’, in the context of the Eucharistic controversy of the ninth century. It also studies the ideological consequences of his exegesis.1

Keywords

Haimo of Auxerre, Carolingian exegesis, Eucharist, Carolingian ecclesiology, Carolingian ideology.

Capitalia Verba

Haimo Autissiodorensis, Exegesis Carolina, Eucharistia, Ecclesiologia Carolina, Ideologia Carolina.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 253-264 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.11 253 254 Alfonso Hernández

1. Introduction

Several years ago Yves Congar stated that the study of early medieval ecclesiology presents a basic problem: there are no treaties De ecclesia in the Early Middle Ages2. It means that there is no systematic theoretical reflection on the Church in that period, instead of this it is possible to find ’images of the Church ’. The aim of this paper is to analyze the way Haimo of Auxerre defined one of them: the image of the Church as the Body of Christ. This concept has a direct scriptural origin, Paul uses it in I Cor 12, 12 et seq. and this occurrence ensured its success in the reflections on the nature of the Christian Church during the Middle Ages. In this paper I will present a brief analysis of the relationship between Eucharist and ecclesiology based on the interpretation of Haimo’s of Auxerre Commentary on I Cor. This commentary is a part of a broader exegetical work, the Commentary on the Pauline Epistles from the same author. The Commentary On The Pauline Epistles was read and copied throughout the Middle Ages (at least 180 manuscripts are preserved3, the oldest comes from the ninth century and the later one is a beautiful Renaissance ms. dated in 15694). The Commentary On The Pauline Epistles was also the subject of several early printed editions during the XVIth. century. The most accessible edition is that of Patrologia Latina, which reproduces the editio princeps Strasbourg 15195. As usually happened to many Haimo’s of Auxerre texts it was wrongly attributed to other author, to Haimo bishop of Halberstadt in the case of the Commentary On The Pauline Epistles6. This mistake took place during the Middle Ages and was corrected in 1917 by Riggenbach7. We really do not know the reasons that motivated Haimo of Auxerre to write his Commentary On The Pauline Epistles. Neither have we too much biographical data about the author. Haimo was active in the monastery of Saint-Germain of Auxerre during the two decades of 840-8608. The news about his life are extremely scarce.

1. Used Abbreviations: BA, Biblioteca Ambrosiana; BL, British Library; BML Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana; BMO, Bibliothèque Municipale d'Orléans; BNF, Bibliothèque Nationale de France; WHABW, Wolfenbüttel, Herzog-August Bibliothek. 2. Congar, Yves. L’ecclésiologie du haut moyen age. Paris: Cerf, 1968. 3. WHAB. Weissenburg, 46, f. 1-2; BL. Harley, 3102; BA. A, 138 sup., f. 4-133v; BMO. Ms. 81 (78), f. 211-317; 88 (85); BNF. Ms. lat. 2412; BNF. Ms. lat. 12303; BNF. Ms.lat. 13409. 4. BML, ms. XXIV.1, f. 1-257. 5. Hermanni, Sixtus. “In epistolam ad romanos”. Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris: J.P. Migne: editorem, 1852: CXVII, cols. 364-938. 6. On the attribution of Haimo’s texts, see Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “L’oeuvre d’Haymon d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre de Muretach à Remi 830-908, Dominique Iogna-Prat, Colette Jeudy, Guy Lobrichon, eds. Paris: Beauchesne, 1991: 157-179. 7. Riggenbach, Eduward. Historische Studien zum Hebräerbrief. I: die Älsten lateinischen Kommentare zum Hebräerbrief. Forschungen zur Geschichte des neutestamentlichen Kanons 8. Leipzig: Deichert, 1907. 8. On life and work of Haimo, Holtz, Louis. “L’école d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 131- 146; Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “L’oeuvre d’Haymon d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 157-179. The most important work on Haimo was still in press when this work was done, it is Shimahara, Sumi. Haymon d’Auxerre, exégète carolingien. Turnhout: Brepols, 2013.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 253-264 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.11 The role of The eucharisT in The making of an ecclesiology 255

His date of birth is unknown, but John Contreni9 supposed it should have been in the early ninth century and —based on the studies of Johannes Heil—, it may have taken place in the Iberian Peninsula, although it is impossible to confirm this hypothesis10. Contreni also states that Haimo could have been a student of Teodulph of Orleans, in fact Heil found affinities between the two scholars11. Henri Barré dated Haimo’s death around 865-86612, however J.J. Contreni supposed that he was the abbot of Sasceium (Cessy-les-Bois), near Saint-Germain d’Auxerre, between 865 and 87513. Haimo’s Commentary on I Cor has received little attention in modern scholarship. Jacques Le Goff used it in his History of Purgatory but retained the wrong attribution to Haimo of Halberstadt14. Edmond Ortigues studied it as a complementary source in his work on tri-functional order (work truly focused on Haimo’s commentaries on the Epistle to the Romans and on the Book of Revelations) 15. Pierre Boucaud point out the influence of Claudius of Turin in different aspects of Haimo’s ideas16.

2. The theological context: ninth century Eucharistic controversy

The belief in transubstantiation is one of the dogmatic issues that makes a difference between the Catholic and many Reformed Churches from Trento to the present17. However this concept began to be used only since 114018 and although it was recognized as a dogma in the fourth Lateran Council of 1215 and the Aristotelian —based doctrine of the transubstantiation was developed on the late thirteenth century, it coexisted with other interpretations, at least until the fifteenth

9. Contreni, John. “By Lions, Bishops are meant; by Wolves, Priests. “History, Exegesis, and the carolingian Church in Haimo of Auxerre’s Commentary on Ezechiel”. Francia, 29 (2002): 55-56. 10. Heil, Johannes. “Haimo’s commentary on Paul. Sources, Methods and Theology”, Études d’exégèse carolingienne: autour d’Haymon d’Auxerre. Atelier de recherches Centre d’Études médiévales d’Auxerre 25-26 avril 2005, Sumi Shimahara, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 2007: 114-118. 11. Heil, Johannes. Kompilation oder Konstruktion? Die Juden in den Pauluskommentaren des 9. Jahrhunderts, (Forschungen zur Geschichte der Juden. Abt. A: Abhandlungen, 6). Hannover: Hansche, 1998: 275-334. 12. Barré, Henri. “Haymon”, Dictionnaire de Spiritualité. Paris: Beauchesne, 1969: VII, col. 92. 13. Contreni, John. Haimo of Auxerre, Abbot of Sasceium. (Cessy-les-Bois) and a new Sermon of John v, 4-10. Révue Bénédictine, 85 (1975): 317. 14. Le Goff, Jacques. La naissance du Purgatoire. Paris: Gallimard, 1981: 143-144. 15. Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 181-227 (reimpreso en Ortigues, Edmond. La révélation et le droit. Paris: Beauchesne, 2007: 77-130. 16. Boucaud, Pierre. “Claude de Turin (†ca. 828) et Haymon d’Auxerre (fl. 850): deux commentateures de l’I Corinthiens”, Études d’exégèse carolingienne...: 187-236. 17. According to Thierry Wanegffelen the definition of the nature of Eucharist was essential for Catholics and Protestants to build up their doctrines, Wanegffelen, Thierry. “La controverse entre Robert Céneau et Martin Bucer sur l’Eucharistie (septembre 1534-janvier 1535)”. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 77 (1991): 341-349; see also: Burnett, Amy Nelson. “The social history of communion and the reformation of the eucharist”. Past and Present, 211 (2011): 77-119. 18. Goering, Joseph. “The Invention of Transubstantiation”. Traditio, 46 (1991): 147-170.

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century19. The discussion about ’Eucharistic realism’, ie the real presence —or not— of Christ in the consecrated bread and wine has antecedents in the Carolingian period. Moreover, during the Carolingian and post-Carolingian periods the Eucharist finished an evolution that began at least in the sixth century from its original nature of mysterium, in the ancient sense o the word, involving all the community and it finally became a salvific work and part of the monastic ascetical exercises useful as an instrument for salvation20. The most complete analysis of the Eucharistic controversy in the Carolingian period was written by Celia Chazelle. We follow her ideas in the nexts paragraphs21. It is possible to date the beginning of the ninth century’s controversy about Eucharistic in 831-833, when Paschasius Radbertus wrote his treatise De corpore et sanguine Domini22. He later revised it (843-844) to present it to King Charles the Bald. However, the development of the dispute actually took place in later years from the middle of IXth century on. The corpus of texts in dispute includes the aforementioned Paschasius Radbertus’ text, Ratramnus’ De corpore et sanguine Domini (written between 830 and 840 and also dedicated to Charles the Bald) 23, Godescalcus of Orbais’ two treaties24, a Florilegium of Adrevaldo of Fleury drafted sometime after 840 and directed against a text (now lost) of Scotus Eriugena25, a fragment of the Expositiones in ierarchiam coelestem of the hand of the same Eriugena (towards 862)26, a letter from Rabanus of 853-856 which mentions a treatise on the issue drafted by

19. Macy, Gary. “The dogma of transubstantiation in the middle ages”. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 45 (1994): 11-31. 20. Vogel, Cyrille. “Une mutation cultuelle inexpliquée: le passage de l’Eucharistie communautaire à la messe privée”. Revue des Sciences Religieuses, 54 (1980): 231-250. 21. Chazelle, Celia. “Exegesis in the Ninth-Century Eucharistic Controversy”, The Study of the Bible in the Carolingian Era, Celia Chazelle, Burton van Namme Edwards, eds. Turnhout: Brepols, 2003: 167-187; Chazelle, Celia. “The Eucharist in Early Medieval Europe”, A Companion to the Eucharist in the Middle Ages, Ian Christopher Levy, Gary Macy, Kristen Van Ausdall, eds. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2012: 205-250. See also, about the same question: Chazelle, Celia. The Crucified God in the Carolingian Era: Theology and Art of Christ’s Passion. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2001; Otten, Willemien. “Between augustinian sign and carolingian reality: the presence of Ambrose and Augustine in the Eucharistic debate between Paschasius Radbertus and Ratramnus of Corbie”. Dutch Review of Church History, 80 (2000): 137-156; For more general references to the discussion of the Eucharist in our period, see: Libera, Alain de. La filosofía medieval. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2006: 282; Onofrio, Giulio d’. Storia della teologia nel Medioevo, II, Età Medievale. Casale Monferrato: Piemme 2003, 83-94; Boureau, Alain. “Visions of God”, Early Medieval Christianities, c. 600-1100. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2008: 503-504. Cambridge History of the Christianity. Thomas F.X. Noble, Julia M. H. Smith, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2014: III. 22. Pascasio Radberto. De corpore et sanguine Domini cum appendice epistola ad Fredugardum, Paulus Beda, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 1969: 1-131. 23. Ratramno. De corpore et sanguine Domini: Texte original et notice bibliographique, Jaan Nicholas Bakhuizen. Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1974: 9-14. 24. Oeuvres théologiques et grammaticales de Godescalco d’Orbais, ed. Cyrille Lambot. Lovaina: “Spicilegium Sacrum Lovaniense”. Bureaux, 1945: 324-335, 335-337. 25. Adrevaldi, “De corpore et sanguine Christi contra ineptias Joannis Scoti”, Patrologiae. Cursos completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1879: CXXIV, cols. 947-954. 26. Escoto, Juan. Expositiones in ierarchiam coelestem, ed. Jeanne Barbet. Turnhout: Brepols, 1975: 17, lines 584-594.

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himself27, other two lost texts of Radbertus (a commentary to Matthew’s account of the Last Supper28 and a letter to the monk Fredugardus29) and finally fragments of a poem/treaty of Hincmarus of Reims called The ferculum Salomonis30 written for Charles the Bald. Haimo was not involved in this controversy and a De corpore et sanguine Domini attributed to him in the Patrologia Latina (PL) is not actually his31. A central idea of ​​Celia Chazelle is that what was discussed in ninth-century Eucharistic controversy was not the reality of the Saviour’s presence in the sacrament but ’what’ body and blood of Christ it was. Another characteristic of this theological discussion was his exegetical nature, produced by the centrality of biblical exegesis in the Carolingian culture. A third element to consider is that this was a whole new discussion. While the two opposing positions used patristic sources, it is not possible to distiguish an ’Ambrosian’ position against an ’Augustinian’ one. Indeed, the problem is that there were no clear patristic developments on the subject and this was, according to Willemien Otten, the root cause of the dispute in Carolingian times and even later, during the Reformation32. Let us see briefly the Eucharist position of four of the Carolingian authors cited: Pascasius Radbertus, Godescalcus, Hincmarus and Ratramnus. According to Pascasius Radbertus there is an identification of the Eucharistic body and blood of Christ with the historical ones, but this identification is ’figured’ under the sensitive characteristics of bread and wine. Godescalcus, meanwhile, wrote against Pascasius’ De corpora (a text he read but whose authorship he did not know)33. Godescalcus based his statements on evangelical citations (Rom VI, 9 and I Peter III, 18), to assert that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross was unique and therefore it could not be directly related to the one conducted daily at mass. Hincmarus, a declared enemy of Godescalcus, sided with the position of Pascasius Radbertus. Hincmarus shares with Radbertus the belief in the identity of the Eucharist with the body and blood of the historical Christ. The fourth participant in the Eucharistic controversy, from whom we have an important text is Ratramnus. In his De corpore et sanguine Domini, he states that the Saviour’s presence in the Eucharist is real but only in a spiritual sense, so it is imperceptible to the senses. The communion wafer is a ’sign’ of the true Christ. As we can see, Ratramnus accords in his position with Godescalcus, in the same way as Hincmarus does with Pascasius Radbertus.

27. Rabani Mauri, “Epistola 56”, Monumenta Germaniae historica. Epistolae karolini aevi III. Epistolae V, ed. Ernst Dümmler. Berlin: Weidmann, 1899: 509-514. 28. Radberto, Pascasius; Beda, Paulus, Expositio in Matheo libri XII. Turnhout: Brepols, 1984: 1288-1298. 29. Radberto, Pascasio; Beda, Paulus, Epistola ad Fredugardum. Turnhout: Brepols, 1984: 145-173. 30. Hincmaro, “Carmen 4”, Monumenta Germaniae historica, Poetae latini aevi Carolini III, ed. Ludwig Traube. Berlin: Weidmann, 1896: 414-415. 31. Jullien, Marie Hélène. “Le De corpore et sanguine Domini attribué à Haymon”, Études d’Exégèse carolingienne...: 23-57. 32. Otten, Willemien. “Between augustinian sign and carolingian reality...”: 146. 33. Chazelle, Celia. “Exegesis in the Ninth-Century...”: 167.

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3. The relationship between Eucharist and Church body in Haimo’s thought

In I Cor Paul deals with the Eucharist in verses I Cor 11: 17-34 and the Church as the Body of Christ in I Cor 12: 12-26. Haimo’s exposition is systematic and explains the text carefully, stopping sometimes in whole verses, sometimes in specific words. The order of his exegesis follows the text of St. Paul, but sometimes he inserts fragments of other scriptural texts and performs the exegesis of them, though always in relation to the original Pauline text. The techniques used by Haimo are those of the monastic exegesis as described by Gilbert Dahan34. This paper is restricted to Haimo’s exegesis of some of the verses already mentioned. The first thing I want to emphasize is that in this particular comment, Haimo seemed to favor the Eucharistic realism in Paschasius Radbertus’ sense. He wrote in his commentary on I Cor 11, 24:

Accipite et manducate: hoc est corpus meum quod pro vobis tradetur. Sicut caro Christi quam assumpsit in utero virginali, verum corpus ejus est, et pro nostra salute occisum, ita panis quem Christus tradidit discipulis suis omnibusque praedestinatis ad vitam aeterna et quem quotidie consecrant sacerdotes in Ecclesia cum virtute divinitatis, quae illum replet panem verum corpus Christi est, nec sunt duo corpora illa caro quam assumpsit, et iste panis, sed unum verum corpus faciunt Christi: intantum ut dum ille frangitur et comeditur, Christus immoletur et comedatur, et tamen integer maneat et vivus.35

In his commentary on I Cor 11, 27 Haimo also condemns those who consider that the consecrated bread in the Eucharist is merely a food just like any other:

Indigne dicit, id est ordine non observato, videlicet qui aliter mysterium illud celebrat vel sumit, quam traditum est a sanctis Patribus, vel qui nullam differentiam credit inter illud corpus Christi, et reliquos cibos.36

34. Dahan, Gilbert. L’exégèse chrétienne de la Bible en Occident médiéval XIIe-XIVe siècle. Paris: Cerf, 1999: 76-91. 35. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1852: CXVII, col. 572c: TAKE AND EAT, this is MY BODY DELIVERED FOR YOU. Just as the flesh of Christ, which he took in the virginal womb, is his true body and he was killed for our salvation, so the bread that Christ gave to his disciples and to all those predestined to eternal life and is daily consecrate by the priests in the Church with the strength of the Divinity. He who occupies that bread is the true body of Christ, so that when it is divided and eaten, Christ is slain and eaten, but remains intact and alive. 36. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... cols. 573d-574a: UNWORTHILY says (the Apostle), ie without observing the order, actually whoever celebrates or receives this mystery differently as it was transmitted by the Fathers, or who believes that there is no difference between the body of Christ and the remaining food...

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 253-264 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.11 The role of The eucharisT in The making of an ecclesiology 259

This fragment suggests that Haimo was aware of the theological discussions about the Eucharist. Apparently he knew that there were people who considered that the Eucharistic bread was just bread. It may be a reference to the position of Ratramnus and Godescalcus. But it may also be an allusion to similar views present in his monastic community or in Haimo’s ecclesiastical environment. In any case, the issue was important enough for the author to make him insist on its condemnation, as he does in his commentary on I Corinthians 11, 29:

Qui enim manducat et bibit indigne, sicut supra diximus, judicium sibi manducat et bibit, id est ad damnationem suam illud sumit, non dijudicans corpus Domini, id est non discernens a reliquis cibis. 37

The image of the Church as a body appears already in the Pauline text. Haimo insists on the unity of the body and follows the patristic idea that Christ is the head of that body in his exegesis on I Cor 12, 12:

Sicut enim corpus unum est, et habet multa membra, etc. Usque ita et Christus: subaudis, cum Ecclesia unum corpus est. His verbis docet non deberi inflari quaelibet adversus alterum, quia etsi non magnum, tamen parvum est Ecclesiae membrum. Et sicut omnia membra, sive sint magna, sive parva, sive honesta, sive inhonesta, corpus humanum formant, ita homines diversi meriti unam Ecclesiam aedificant, et unum corpus Christi faciunt. Cum Christo enim qui est caput Ecclesiae, ipsa Ecclesia intelligitur, quae est corpus ejus. 38

These statements are very traditional. In fact, the idea that the Church is the body of Christ appears in Tertullian39. However, during the Carolingian period, there were reflections on the metonymy of the place of worship (the church building), the Church as the body of believers, and the Church as institution. The Carolingian period presented a series of transformations in the organization of the Church in relation to the place of worship, which would be essential in the future: Carolingian Church took God who was everywhere, without being in any special place and confined him into the church building, whose center was the altar. On that altar

37. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 574d: actually one who eats and drinks unworthily, as we said above, eats and drinks his own judgment, ie he consumes it for his own damnation, when he does not perceive the body of the lord, ie he does not distinguish it from the remaining foods. 38. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 578d: Actually as well as the body is only one and has many members, etc. Christ also is one body with the church. With these words he (Paul) teaches that no one should be prideful regarding the others, because even the small one is a member of the church. And as every member, whether great or small, honorable or shameful, forms the human body, also men of various merits constitute one church and conform the only body of Christ. So with Christ, who is the head of the church, the same church is his body. 39. Tertullianus, “ Adversus Marcionem. Liber V”, Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris : J. P. Migne editorem, 1844, II, line 18: Sic ubi autem et ecclesiam corpus christi dicit esse —ut hic ait adimplere se reliqua pressurarum christi in carne pro corpore eius, quod est ecclesia—, non propterea et in totum mentionem corporis transferens a substantia carnis; Tertullianus, De monogamia. Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1844. II, chap. 13, line 23: Igitur si mortificari nos iubet legi per corpus christi, quod est ecclesia...

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took place the Eucharist sacrifice and, as we have seen, Eucharist produced one of the great theological controversies of the ninth century. In that altar many other social practices also happened (oaths, slaves freeing, donation or exchange of goods)40. The ambiguity Church / church makes us wonder about the meaning of the concept ’body of Christ’ not only in relation to that of ’Church’ but also that of ’church’, not just in Haimo, but also in other thinkers and Carolingian exegetes. But this issue is beyond the scope of this paper. In the Commentary on I Cor it is possible to notice a number of interesting fragments containing Haimo’s ideas of the Church. In first place, the commentary on I Cor 12: 4:

Et divisiones ministrationum sunt. Verbi gratia: ut in episcopis, presbyteris, diaconibus, caeterisque ordinibus, qui Spiritu sancto distribuente Ecclesiae ministri constituuntur, non per propriam hominis deliberationem, sed per Spiritus sancti efficientiam; idem autem Dominus, subaudis manet indivisus in omnibus. 41

Haimo points at two main issues. First, he underlines the structure of the ecclesiastical hierarchy according to their degrees but he expressly names the senior ministries: bishops, priests and deacons. Secondly, he notes that this kind of Church organization is the result of intervention of the Holy Spirit, not of human invention. In his commentary on I Corinthians 12, 12 Haimo proposed that each component of the ecclesiastical body had a function, as we have already noted. Therefore, within the Church every Christian had a place and usefulness, regardless of his membership to the church hierarchy. As the author states later, the unifying condition of the Church is baptism:

Etenim in uno Spiritu, subaudis, sancto, de quo scriptum est: ’Ipse vos baptizabit in Spiritu sancto et igne’; et: ’Nisi quis renatus fuerit ex aqua et Spiritu sancto’. Omnes nos in unum corpus baptizati sumus, id est, ad hoc baptizati sumus ut essemus unum corpus cum capite nostro Christo, et omnes in uno Spiritu potati sumus. 42

Haimo states in a very material way the strong union of the faithful. He says on I Cor 12, 14:

40. Iogna-Prat, Dominique. La maison Dieu. Une histoire monumentale de l’Église au Moyen Âge. Paris: Seuil, 2006: 107-314. 41. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 577a: And there is a division of ministries, verbi gratia, bishops, priests, deacons and the remaining orders, which were instituted by the Holy Spirit. He provided them as ministers for the church, not because of men’s decision, but because of the action of the Holy Spirit; but there is only one lord, it means that he remains undivided. 42. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 578d-579a: Also actually in one spirit, ie holy spirit, about whom it is written, ’he will baptize you in the holy spirit and in the fire’ (lk 3, 16); and ’except a man be born of water and of the spirit etc’(jn 3, 5). All of us in one body were baptized, ie were baptized with the goal of being one body with Christ as our head and to be saturated with one spirit.

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Nam et corpus non unum est membrum, sed multa, quia unum membrum non facit corpus, sed multa simul nervis conglutinata: sic omnes credentes, sive sint sublimes vitae merito, sive parvi, unum corpus efficiunt, conglutinante eos virtute Spiritus sancti. 43

It is interesting to note the use of the participle of conglutino. Firstly, Haimo uses it in its passive form when he shows that multa (membra) simul nervis conglutinata (sunt). Secondly, it is used in its active form, pointing out that the binding agent is the strength of the Holy Spirit. At this point of the paper, we must make a brief parenthesis. In other papers about Haimo of Auxerre, I argued that his vision of the matter, the flesh, the world and the body is extremely negative44. This negative image is based on the monastic condition of our author and is directly related to the monastic contemptus mundi. This position is not a surprise coming from a Christian writer in general and a monastic one. However there is a problem: how could it be possible to reconciled an image of the Church as a body with the contempt of the flesh? The solution to this problem is the grace or the strength (virtute) of the Holy Spirit. The action of the Spirit is the theological instrument to overcome this contradiction and its ecclesiological implications. It is the third person of the Trinity who dignifies thecorpus ecclesiasticus and rises above the matter so that it can become acceptable to his head Christ. In the commentary on I Cor 12, 15 Haimo introduces for the first time in his text the idea that the laity is a constituent part of Church’s body:

Caput corporis sui, id est Ecclesiae, Christus est. Oculi hujus corporis, apostoli sunt intelligendi, de quibus dicitur: ’Pulchriores sunt oculi ejus vino’, sed et praedicatores qui sibi aliisque spiritualia provident; aures sunt fideles auditores; nares, qui vim discretionis habent inter odores virtutum fetoresque vitiorum; os, qui divina eloquia aliis eructant, id est doctores; manus, qui operantur unde alii vivant; pedes, qui in negotiis saecularibus ad utilitatem caeterorum discurrunt. 45

The reference to the laics thus appears in two ways. First, the fideles concept that includes them. According to Haimo the eyes of the Church body are the apostles but

43. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579a: Since the body is not one member but many, because one member does not make a body, but many bonded together simultaneously with nerves do it, so those who are sublimed through the merits of their lives, but also the small ones conform one only body, by the power of the Holy Spirit that brings them together. 44. Hernández, Alfonso. “Haimón de Auxerre y el profeta Oseas. Exégesis monástica y profecía en el período carolingio”. Temas Medievales, 19 (2011): 109-111. 45. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579a-b: The head of his body, the Church, is Christ. We should understand that the eyes of this body are the apostles, about whom it is said: ’most beautiful are their eyes than the wine’ (Gn 49, 12), but also the preachers who provide spiritual things to themselves and to others; the ears are the faithful auditors; the noses are those who have the ability to distinguish between the odors of the virtues and the stench of the vices; the mouth is that one who utter the divine speeches to others, ie doctors; the hands are those who produce what we all need to live; the feet are those running in secular business for the good of others.

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also preachers. The function of preaching is traditionally occupied by the bishops but it can also refer to other levels of the Church hierarchy and even in the early days of the Carolingian Renaissance it could be performed by the lay rectors of the kingdom46. The ears are the faithful, those who receive the Word. The clergy is the mouth that emits the divine speech. But then Haimo makes a direct reference to the role of the laity within the body of the Church, saying that those who work so that others may live with the fruit of that work are the hands of the ecclesiastical body —as well as feet are men who engage in the secular business—. Those who worked with their hands in Carolingian Europe in the mid-ninth century were undoubtedly peasants in first place and different kind of craftsmen in second place. It is more difficult to identify whom the author refers aspedes, qui ad in negotiis saecularibus utilitatem caeterorum discurrunt. It is tempting to think that he means the warrior aristocracy, since it is well known that Haimo of Auxerre is the oldest medieval author to propose the division of society in three functional orders47. These pedes, are apparently the lay engaged in secular business. However, we know that the Carolingian clergy were also committed to the administration of the kingdom and that many churchmen were involved in secular business, although this were not —speaking theoretically at least— their function. But Haimo’s claim is a theoretical statement and he assumes that secular business is the duty of the lower members of the Church, as our monk explains on I Cor 12, 22 following Saint Paul: Sed multo magis quae videntur membra corporis infirmiora esse, sicut pedes sunt et manus, quae vilibus quibusque ministeriis deserviunt, necessaria sunt: quia pro toto corpore operantur... 48 These lower members are almost certainly the laics. If so, it is possible that the pedes were the Carolingian warrior aristocracy, but they may also include secular people —whether warriors or not— dedicated to public service or trade. Although the latter seems more likely, the text retains some ambiguity. We must not forget that, before the Gregorian Reform, clergy and laity were much more integrated. Ultimately, the main problem for religious intellectuals, which were the majority —although there were a handful of lay ones49— is to point a way of governance that allows the secular elite to get to heaven50.

46. Lauwers, Michel. “Le glaive et la parole. Charlemagne, Alcuin et le modèle du rex praedicator: notes d’ecclésiologie carolingienne”. Annales de Bretagne et du pays de l’Ouest, 111 (2004): 221-243. 47. Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “Le ’baptême’ du schema des trois ordres fonctionnels: l’apport de l’école d’Auxerre dans la seconde moitié du IXe siècle”. Annales - Economies. Sociétés. Civilisations, 31 (1986) : 101-126; Ortigues, Edmond. “L’Elaboration de la théorie des trois ordres chez Haymon d’Auxerre”. Francia, 14 (1987): 17-43; Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre... : 181-227. 48. Haymonis Halberstatensis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579d: Those members of the body considered the weakest, are like the feet and hands, which are devoted to the vile ministries, but they are necessaries because they work for the whole body. 49. Wormald, Patrick; Nelson, Janet L., eds. Lay Intellectuals in the Carolingian World. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2011. 50. The classic reference on this issue is Chélini, Jean. L’aube du Moyen Âge. Naissance de la chrétienté occidentale. La vie religieuse des laïcs de l’Europe carolingienne (750-900). Paris: Picard, 1991 (2º ed. 1997). Raffaele Savigni wrote a ver good synthesis on this problem, Savigni, Raffaelle. Giona di Orléans. Una ecclesiologia carolingia. Bolonia: Pàtron, 1989; Savigni, Raffaelle. “Les laïcs dans l’ecclésiologie carolingienne: normes statutaires

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Haimon explicitly includes the warrior aristocracy within the church body in the commentary on I Cor 12, 28, when he explains the concept of gubernationes in this verse: gubernationes, sicut in praelatis et regibus, episcopis aut ducibus....51 I Cor 12, 28 presents the ecclesiastical degrees as St. Paul conceived them. The apostle only makes a list of ecclesiastical ranks: primum apostolos, secundo prophetas, tertio doctores, deinde virtutes, exinde donationes curationum, opitulationes, gubernationes, genera linguarum. Haimo does an exegesis of these ranks. The explanation the Carolingian author gives of gubernationes is relevant to this work. Haimo identifies gubernationes with: praelatis et regibus, episcopis et ducibus. ’Prelate’ in principle means ’bishop’ but Haimo explicitly mentions the bishops alongside with the dukes and the prelates standing with the kings. Those dukes were lay aristocrats, so it is likely that, in this context, prelates are archbishops. Two groups conform the Gubernationes. The archbishops and kings on the top and bishops and dukes bellow them. The combination of ecclesiastical dignities with secular dignities shows many things. First, it expresses a reality of the Middle Ages and above all of the High Middle Ages. There is no clear distinction between a purely religious power and a purely secular power. As a matter of fact, Haimo accepts the religious condition of secular power but he also presents the secular nature of religious power. Second, although gubernationes —as Haimo presents them— can be grouped into two, the prelates are mentioned before the kings, which would give some prominence to the archbishops over monarchs. Although sovereigns appear above the bishops and they are grouped with the lay aristocracy —that is below the kings— at the highest level of power in the world there is a religious institution: the praelati52. Another interesting point to note is that Haimo presents every form of gubernationes in plural, ie with no preeminence of any bishop or any particular king. This means, firstly, that the author disregards the aspirations of some Popes of the ninth century for Roman supremacy; secondly, perhaps aware of the Carolingian political reality after the Treaty of Verdun, which presents a fragmented political map between many kings with more or less the same power, though one of them holds the title of Emperor. In any case, the exercise of the government of the Church, or of the

et idéal de ’conversion’ (à propos de Paulin d’Aquilèe, Jonas d’Orléans, Dhuoda et Hincmar de Reims)”, Guerriers et moines. Conversion et sainteté aristocratique dans l’Occident médiéval (IXe-XIIe), Michel Lauwers, ed. Niza: Antibes 2002: 41-92. According to Rachel Stone the way to achieve this goal was the instruction of the laity according to the principles of the Carolingian Renaissance see Stone, Rachel. “The rise and fall of the lay moral elite in carolingian Francia”, La culture du Haut Moyen Âge. Une question d’élites?, François Bougard, Régine Le Jan, Rosamond McKitterick, eds. Turnhout: Brepols, 2009: 363-375. 51. Halberstatensis, Haymonis, “ In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 580c: “governments, ie prelates and kings, bishops and dukes (ducibus).” 52. Sumi Shimahara studied on the basis of exegetical texts the way secular elite was relegated to a secondary place from midlle ninth century on Shimahara, Sumi. “L’éxégèse biblique et les élites: qui sont les recteurs de l’Église à l’époque carolingienne?”, La culture du Haut Moyen Âge. Une question d’élites?, François Bougard, Régine Le Jan, Rosamond McKitterick, eds. Turnhout: Brepols, 2009: 201-217.

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whole society is a collective one, as has been pointed out by other scholars studying Haimo’s ideas53.

4. Conclusion

In Haimo’s thought the Pauline idea of the church as the body of Christ is also identified with the Eucharistic sacrifice. Christ had a real body, a historical body sacrificed on the Cross. But the Eucharist is also his real body. The Church as the body of Christ also rests on the Eucharistic realism. Christ has three real bodies: the historical, the sacramental and the ecclesiastical. In this sense there is in the haimonian exegesis a typical problem of Carolingian Eucharistic controversies: what is meant by ’real’? What ’real’ means in itself? It is a difficult problem. But the Eucharist reality gives also ’reality’ to that mystical body of Christ which is the Church. On this ’reality’ Haimo builds his ecclesiology. In his ecclesiology there is a clergy with different dignities, a hierarchy. There is also the laity, also with a hierarchy that our author defined less clearly but it includes kings, dukes —warrior aristocracy—, manual workers and perhaps merchants and bureaucrats. The government of that body —which is the Church— is the duty of archbishops —praelati—, bishops, kings and dukes, ie a mixed collegial governance of both religious and secular authority, perhaps with a slight supremacy of the former over the second. Finally, Haimo did not establish primacies between religious and secular authorities. This ecclesiology is as real as is real the presence of Christ in the Eucharistic sacramental bread, consecrated on the altar, inside a church or in a space controlled exclusively by the clergy. Therefore, if we want to have a full comprehension of Eucharist’s place in ecclesiology, we also need understand the place of concepts such as church, temple and altar, both in Haimo’s thought and in other intellectuals of the time as well.

53. According to Ortigues Haimo favors a collegial and an Episcopalian governance Church Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 205-213.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 253-264 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.11 TELEOLOGY, NATURAL DESIRE AND KNOWLEDGE OF GOD IN THE SUMMA CONTRA GENTILES

Sebastián Contreras and Joaquín García-Huidobro Universidad de los Andes Chile

Date of receipt: 18th of October, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 18th of March, 2015

Abstract

Teleological reasoning was common among authors of the XIII century. Certainly, the existence of a finalist order among things allowed them to explain both the movement of natural bodies and the movement of the celestial bodies: for these authors all things would move because of final causality. Aquinas’Summa contra gentiles, which we analyze in the following, reproduces this same reasoning model. Taking as reference the movement of natural bodies, he tries to explain the meaning of a special category of movement, namely: human knowledge. Thus, he states that human knowledge is an expression of a natural appetite of our intelligence, the natural desire to know, which rests only in the knowledge of God, the first cause of the world.

Keywords

Thomas Aquinas, natural desire, desire to know, teleology, Summa contra gentiles.

Capitalia Verba

Thomas Aquinas, Appetitus Naturalis, Appetitus Naturalis Cognoscendi, Teleologia, Summa contra gentiles.

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The question about the natural desire to know God had occupied a prominent place in the discussions of medieval thinkers even prior to Saint Thomas.1 Albert the Great, for example, taught that wherever a natural desire exists there is also a tendency ordered to its end: natural inclinations are not vain, and the natural desire to know God is even less so, because natural desires have their own intelligibility and intrinsic meaning.2 Saint Thomas, relying on the words of his teacher Albert, held that there are no inclinations that act in vain,3 and that, to a certain degree, all the natural inclinations of all beings have God as their end.4 After Aquinas, authors like Scotus taught that the natural desire was equivalent to an innate appetite inscribed in the nature of intellectual creatures (the Franciscan held that this desire should be understood as a necessary appetite, as a tendency that does not depend on freedom, as an inclination as deep as nature itself).5 And Cajetan, for his part, suggested that this natural desire is so radical that it was even prior to any other inclination or movement of the rational potencies.6 What we have discussed in the preceding paragraphs is a sample that demonstrates the importance that the problem of the natural desire to see God had in medieval thought. In this article we seek to develop Saint Thomas’s proposal and in particular his arguments in the Summa contra gentiles. Our intention is to present the meaning that this natural desire has in Thomist anthropology, highlighting the fact that this desire is a natural appetite of the mind, indeed the most radical and primary of the various natural appetites of human reason.

1. Use of an argument taken from physics

As its name indicates, in the Summa contra gentiles Saint Thomas is addressing persons who are not Christians, but who admit some of the truths that Christianity proclaims, or, at least, participate in the cultural background provided by the philosophy of Aristotle. In this context, Aquinas seeks to show that the ultimate end of every intellectual creature is understanding God. He does so while relying on the thesis that no desire is as sublime as that of understanding the truth.7 This desire is

1. This paper forms part of a broader project, sponsored by the “Fondo Nacional de Desarrollo Científico y Tecnológico” of the Government of Chile (1110452). An initial version of this article, shorter and in Spanish, was presented at the 9th International Conference De iustitia et iure, held in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in August of 2014, and will be published in the conference’s proceedings. 2. Albert the Great. In Metaphysicorum, I, 1, 4. In the same passage Albert explains that the natural desire to know is a kind of principle of knowledge. 3. Thomas Aquinas. Compendium theologiae, I, 104, 208. 4. Aquinas’s thesis is that all things have an appetite for God, at least implicitly (Thomas Aquinas. De veritate, XXII, 2). 5. John Duns Scotus. Quaestiones quodlibetales, XVII, 2. 6. Thomas of Vio (Cajetan). In Summa theologiae, I-II, 113, 10, 1. 7. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 50. It is important to note that, while it is true that the problem of the natural desire to see God occupies a preeminent place in the overall organization of the

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only satisfied when the creature attains God (intellectually), He who is the “highest summit” and maker of all things.8 Therefore, if the creature does not achieve this end, neither will it attain the greater perfection to which it is inclined. These affirmations are the subject of an interesting discussion in the context of Summa contra gentiles Book III, above all because, in referring to the problem of the end of man, many authors have argued that our télos télion is the will of God (qua supreme good). This is a statement that appears to adhere both to common sense and biblical teachings, which place the love of God and not knowledge of Him as the first of the commandments of both the Mosaic and New Testament laws.9 Despite this, however, Saint Thomas insists that ultimate happiness must not be sought in anything else than the operation of the intellect.10 The reason is simple: it is impossible that an act which arises from the will could be the ultimate end.11 Indeed, the good of man qua man consists in his reason being perfect in the knowledge of the truth, and that the inferior appetites obey reason and take their measure from it (given that what is specific to the human being is precisely his rationality).12 As a result, Aquinas insists, what human reason wants, as being determined to it by natural inclination, is the ultimate end et ea quae in ipso includuntur, ut esse, cognitio veritatis, et aliqua huiusmodi13 Nonetheless, this affirmation alone is insufficient for understanding the nature of the so-called “natural desire to see-understand God.” Indeed, this desire is grafted into a complex interweaving of appetites that have their root in intellectual nature, those which, in turn, root themselves in the fertile earth of those most universal desires that are found in every being qua being.14 With this in mind, in the current work we have preferred to deepen our inquiry into the nature of this natural desire, as well as its relation to the final end of man. We do not seek to start a debate about all of the arguments presented by Saint Thomas in Summa contra gentiles. There are already works dedicated to that purpose.15 Our effort will focus solely on explaining the link this desire has with the problem

Summa contra gentiles, Saint Thomas never investigates this issue directly, but instead discusses it in the context of his explanation of the state that people find themselves in after their death, see:Contra gentiles, III, 7. 8. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 50. 9. For example: Saint Augustine. De civitate Dei, XIX, and De Trinitate XIII. Similarly: Saint Paul. First Letter to the Corinthians, XIII. 10. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 50. 11. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, q. 1, a. 1. 12. González-Ayesta, Cruz. La verdad como bien según Tomás de Aquino. Pamplona: Ediciones Universidad de Navarra, 2006: 340. 13. Thomas Aquinas. De veritate, XXII, 5: “whatever is included in it: to be, knowledge of truth, and the like”. Translated by Robert W. Schmidt: Aquinas, Thomas, Truth Questiones 21-29, Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1954 . 14. Cambiasso, Jorge Guillermo. El deseo de entender la verdad en la “Summa contra gentiles” de santo Tomás de Aquino. Buenos Aires: Educa, 1999: 148. 15. For example: Pacheco, Cipriano Franco. O desejo natural da visão de Deus expressao de abertura humana ao trascendente, Dissertação Ad Lauream in Facultate Philosophiae apud Pontificiam Universitatem S. Thomae in Urbe, Rome: Pontificia Universitá San Tommaso d’Aquino, 2001.

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of movement and the telos [end] of the physical world, as well as on the study of the implications for human knowledge of this natural desire to see God. Let’s begin with what Aquinas tells us:

[c]orpus, quod naturali appetitu tendit in suum ubi, tanto vehementius et velocius movetur, quanto magis appropinquat fini: unde probat Aristoteles in I de caelo, quod motus naturalis rectus non potest esse ad infinitum, quia non magis moveretur postea quam prius. Quod igitur vehementius in aliquid tendit post quam prius, non movetur ad infinitum, sed ad aliquid determinatum tendit. Hoc autem invenimus in desiderio sciendi: quanto enim aliquis plura scit, tanto maiori desiderio affectat scire. Tendit igitur desiderium naturale hominis in sciendo ad aliquem determinatum finem. Hoc autem non potest esse aliud quam nobilissimum scibile, quod Deus est. Est igitur cognitio divina finis ultimus hominis. 16

The first thing that draws the reader’s attention about this text, which has a parallel in the Super Epistolam ad Hebraeos,17 is that all of Saint Thomas’s argumentation about God as ultimate end appears to be based on a physical principle that, strictly speaking, refers to the movement of bodies, which accelerate more the closer they come to their natural place. Indeed, Saint Thomas thinks that among bodies there are some that don’t have a natural place, as is the case with the celestial bodies, while others do have one. This is how he explains the fact that bodies fall. Recall that we are still many centuries distant from Newton: for the ancients and the medievals, a body falls or rises (as fire does) because it is seeking its natural place.18 In the case of physical bodies, they fall more rapidly as they draw closer to their natural place. That is, the presence of a uniformly accelerated movement tells us that the body is not moving to infinity, but towards a determined end. When it reaches this goal, it will rest. Furthermore, Saint Thomas seems to hold that whenever we encounter a movement of this type we can affirm that it is a movement directed to a goal. He then applies this reasoning to the desire to know: since that desire is a type of movement, and since it naturally increases, it will be oriented towards a determined

16. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25: “a body tending toward its proper place (ubi) by natural appetite, is moved more forcibly and swiftly as it approaches its end. Thus, Aristotle proves, in On the Heavens I [8: 27a 18], (De Caelo) that natural motion in a straight line cannot go on to infinity, for then it would be no more moved later than earlier. So, a thing that tends more forcibly later than earlier, toward an objective, is not moved toward an indefinite objective, but tends toward some determinate thing. Now, we find this situation in the desire to know. The more a person knows, the more is he moved by the desire to know. Hence, man’s natural desire tends, in the process of knowing, toward some definite end. Now, this can be none other than the most noble object of knowledge, which is God. Therefore, divine knowledge is the ultimate end of man”. 17. The text is as follows: “a natural movement, the closer it gets to its goal, the more intense it becomes.” Thomas Aquinas. Super Epistolam ad Hebraeos, X, 2, 513 (“[q]uia motus naturalis quanto plus accedit ad terminum, magis intenditur.”) Translated by Larcher, Fabian R. Lander. Commentary on the letter of Saint Paul to the Hebrews. Wyoming: Aquinas Institute for the Study of Sacred Doctrine, 2012. 18. Aristotle. De caelo, 276a.

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end or goal. And to surprise our contemporaries even more, he indicates that this end can only be God. Just reading the argument we are commenting on makes the reader’s mind want to raise at least the following objections: is it true that bodies move towards a natural place? And even if they do, can one imagine that the greater velocity and strength of a movement says to us that it is closer to that place? In addition, these objections refer to the realm where the physical principle we indicated above applies. Let’s suppose for a moment that the principle is valid, and that in nature there are bodies that move ever faster, according to their increasing closeness to the place that corresponds to them, their natural place. Can we say with such simplicity that the same thing happens in the spiritual plane? It looks like Thomas is taking an invalid step from the world of facts to the field of the human spirit.

2. Things tend toward an end

The idea of natural places has been abandoned by physics for centuries now. A stone does not fall because it seeks its natural place or point of rest, but rather because of the gravitational force that the Earth exercises over it, or because of the deformation of space that the Earth produces. In the case of fire, it tends to rise for reasons that are very different from seeking a place that is above it. Even the manner of speaking has changed: if one examines the language used in the Summa contra gentiles, one will discover with surprise that Aquinas is continually saying that material things pursue determined ends, as though, just as with human beings, they were able to propose goals to themselves and pursue them. Today, however, stones and other material objects are receptors, not actors. They don’t seek anything: they are mere recipients of a series of forces that act on them. Later, in the face of the modern way of explaining the physical world, the language of earlier philosophers seems excessively anthropomorphic.19 Does that mean that Aquinas’s statements have lost all rational support? We think not. First of all, in ordinary language we still use anthropomorphic forms of speech, which make the world we live in more intelligible. We all still speak of the “rising of the sun,” of the “growth of the river” or of the “songs of the birds,” all of which only make sense by referring to the human world. But even within Newtonian physics there are expressions which are closer to the ancient and medieval ways of speaking of the physical world than one might think at first glance. The case of falling bodies is especially eloquent. In any school physics textbook one finds the doctrine that

19. It bears noting that, as Spaemann says, even though teleological explanation of the natural world can be excessively anthropomorphic, what cannot be denied is that the finalistic explanation of nature is the only one that permits us to —more or less rigorously— understand the functioning of the natural order: Spaemann, Robert. Persons. The Difference Between “Someone” and “Something”. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006: 156 and following.

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bodies fall because they seek to reduce their potential energy to a minimum. It also teaches that kinetic energy increases to the degree that potential energy lessens. Therefore, the movement of falling bodies is uniformly accelerated. An explanation of this type is naturally more formalized than medieval teachings, but it doesn’t seem to differ greatly from the idea that falling bodies fall more rapidly to the degree that they approach a kind of natural place. In any case, the difference between the ancient-medieval and the modern conceptions derives in particular from the context in which each model is found. In particular, what is most significant seems to be the presence that the idea of teleology has in the first of the two. Aquinas explicitly notes that not only is the end of all things the good, and more specifically God, but he also says that all things attempt to make themselves be like to Him.20 He doesn’t just mean intelligent beings, but all things, even those which lack knowledge. The difference, in this regard, between man and the physical world is not found so much in the end, but rather in the manner, be it free or necessary, of attaining it, and also in the degree, greater or lesser, to which all can enjoy it. The human being, indeed, can come to understand and love God, even if he will never come to comprehend Him, while the rest of the beings in our cosmos will not achieve even that much. The reach of the affirmation that beings lacking knowledge act for an end is a topic that has provoked much debate. The arrival of modern science on the scene has relegated final causes to a second plane: everything is explained by efficient causality. Nevertheless, this does not mean that wherever one finds a scientist one also finds a rejection of natural teleology. William Harvey (+1657), for example, the discoverer of the circulatory system, based his reasonings about the movement of the blood on a clearly finalistic approach. In his opinion, the movement of the blood is only understandable on the basis of an explanation of the structure of blood vessels which, as he says, are made for this movement. And thus, the greater width of the arteries (with respect to the veins) explains their capacity for inducing blood flow, even against the force of gravity.21 The affirmation of finality in the natural world presupposes, in the words of Saint Thomas, the recognition of an intelligence that governs the movement of its beings. And because of this we find that the workings of nature proceed toward their end in an orderly way, as do the actions of a wise man.22 In tending to their

20. Thomas Aquinas. De veritate, XXII, 2. 21. Harvey, William. “On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals”, Scientific Papers: Physiology, Medicine, Surgery, Geology, with Introductions, Notes and Ilustrations, Charles W. Eliot, ed. New York: Collier and Son, 1910: 62-147. 22. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 24. (“impossibile est aliqua contraria et dissonantia in unum ordinem concordare semper vel pluries nisi alicuius gubernatione, ex qua omnibus et singulis tribuitur ut ad certum finem tendant. Sed in mundo videmus res diversarum naturarum in unum ordinem concordare, non ut raro et a casu, sed ut semper vel in maiori parte. Oportet ergo esse aliquem cuius providentia mundus gubernetur. Et hunc dicimus Deum”). In this way, among natural beings it “contrary and discordant things cannot, always or for the most part, be parts of one order except under someone’s government, which enables all and each to tend to a definite end. But in the world we find that things of diverse natures come together under one order, and

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perfection, things seek their good, “since a thing is good to the extent that it is perfect. Moreover, by virtue of tending to be good it tends to the divine likeness, for a thing is made like unto God in so far as it is good.”23 Together with noting that things tend towards an end, Saint Thomas is also pointing out that in all beings there is an appetite for the good.24 This causes greater difficulties than the former issue: even if we can say that the arrow tends to the target to the degree that there is an archer whose intelligence directs the arrow, it will be a bit artificial and forced if we attribute an appetite for the good to all things, even inanimate things. This idea of a natural appetite for the good is also present in the Thomistic text we are commenting on, which begins by saying that the body tends to its own place “with a natural appetite.”25 Today it is hard for us to imagine that there could be appetite in non-rational beings: how could we accept that there is appetite in a stone or a fern? And nevertheless, St. Thomas does not hesitate to say yes to this idea, because, were it not so, those beings would not tend to their maximum perfection. In his commentary on the Physics of Aristotle, Aquinas emphasizes that the idea of appetite is linked with that of lack.26 Appetite is a tendency towards a certain kind of good: it is an inclination towards one’s own perfection. But the fact that a certain inclination exists in a determined subject does not necessarily mean that that subject is conscious of this inclination. Only in beings that enjoy intelligence can the tendency towards the good be conscious. In other beings, this tendency or appetite exists in its own way: “[n]ow, it belongs to every being to seek its perfection and the conservation of its being. Each being does so according to its mode: for intellectual beings through will, for animals through sensible appetite, and to those lacking sense through natural appetite.”27

this not rarely or by chance, but always or for the most part. There must therefore be some being by whose providence the world is governed. This we call God” Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, I, 13. 23. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 24 (“[n]am per hoc quod tendunt in suam perfectionem, tendunt ad bonum: cum unumquodque in tantum bonum sit in quantum est perfectum. Secundum vero quod tendit ad hoc quod sit bonum, tendit in divinam similitudinem: Deo enim assimilatur aliquid inquantum bonum est.”) 24. The distinction that Saint Thomas makes between natural appetite, sensitive appetite and intellectual appetite is not the same thing as saying that the natural appetite is the exclusive domain of inert beings. We must first bear in mind that the human being also includes tendencies that he shares with other beings, be they inert or ensouled (Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, I-II, 94, 2). In the second place, it should be recalled that even at the level of the spirit men have a natural appetite for the good, which is indestructible and which is found at the foundation of all their activity: it would impossible to choose particular goods if we did not have the appetite for the good in general. As is known, St. Thomas constantly insists that everything that is sought, is sought insofar as it is perceived as good, at least in some aspect. This is important for showing that in the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas the natural also plays a role in the spiritual dimension of the human being. Therefore, we can distinguish in the rational appetite a voluntas ut natura and a voluntas ut ratio. 25. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25. 26. Aristotle. In libros Physicorum, I, 15, 136. 27. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, I, 72 (“[c]uilibet autem enti competit appetere suam perfectionem et conservationem sui esse: unicuique tamen secundum suum modum, intellectualibus

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In this sense, both the human being as well as other beings tend to the good, that is, they have an appetite for the good. But in the case of the human being the particular goods are desired in a free way. The other beings do not know their end, but nonetheless strive to attain it.28 Their action, in a certain way, is like that of an instrument.29 Nevertheless, even though they lack any knowledge of their end, their directedness towards that end belongs to them as something proper to them, something natural. What we have discussed up to this point helps us to confirm our analysis of the differences that exist between the medieval and the modern ways of understanding the material world. The point of discord is the role played by teleology in each cosmovision. The more one views the world through teleological goggles, the greater will be the role of internal causality in each one of those beings. Thus, expressions like “bodies have a natural appetite for attaining a specific place” will be understandable, even coming into common usage. In contrast, when the teleological model is replaced by one characterized by mechanicism, it becomes impossible to recognize or attribute any appetite in lower beings. What do we say, then, about the value of the Thomistic affirmation that we cited at the beginning of this article?

[c]orpus, quod naturali appetitu tendit in suum ubi, tanto vehementius et velocius movetur, quanto magis appropinquat fini: unde probat Aristoteles in I de caelo, quod motus naturalis rectus non potest esse ad infinitum, quia non magis moveretur postea quam prius. Quod igitur vehementius in aliquid tendit post quam prius, non movetur ad infinitum, sed ad aliquid determinatum tendit.30

quidem per voluntatem, animalibus per sensibilem appetitum, carentibus vero sensu per appetitum naturalem.”) 28. In this sense, writes St. Thomas: (“[t]amen considerandum est quod aliquid sua actione vel motu tendit ad finem dupliciter, uno modo, sicut seipsum ad finem movens, ut homo; alio modo, sicut ab alio motum ad finem, sicut sagitta tendit ad determinatum finem ex hoc quod movetur a sagittante, qui suam actionem dirigit in finem. Illa ergo quae rationem habent, seipsa movent ad finem, quia habent dominium suorum actuum per liberum arbitrium, quod est facultas voluntatis et rationis. Illa vero quae ratione carent, tendunt in finem per naturalem inclinationem, quasi ab alio mota, non autem a seipsis, cum non cognoscant rationem finis, et ideo nihil in finem ordinare possunt, sed solum in finem ab alio ordinantur.”); “a thing tends to an end by its action or movement in two ways: first, as a thing, moving itself to the end, as man; secondly, as a thing moved by another to the end, as an arrow tends to a determinate end through being moved by the archer who directs his action to the end. Therefore those things that are possessed of reason move themselves to an end; because they have dominion over their actions through their free-will, which is the ’faculty of will and reason.’ But those things that lack reason tend to an end, by natural inclination, as being moved by another and not by themselves; since they do not know the nature of an end as such, and consequently cannot ordain anything to an end, but can be ordained to an end only by another.” Summa theologiae, I-II, 1, 2. 29. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, I, 22, 2. 30. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25: “a body tending toward its proper place (ubi) by natural appetite, is moved more forcibly and swiftly as it approaches its end. Thus, Aristotle proves, in On the Heavens I [8: 27a 18], that natural motion in a straight line cannot go on to infinity, for then it would be no more moved later than earlier. So, a thing that tends more forcibly later than earlier, toward an objective, is not moved toward an indefinite objective, but tends toward some determinate thing”.

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Within a teleological scheme, these affirmations are valid, although they may need to be corrected in certain aspects. If, in contrast, we adopt a mechanicist view, the affirmations just cited would only be acceptable as metaphors, explanations that seek to reflect in a very elemental way what common sense discovers on the basis of the observation of falling bodies.

3. Final causes in biology. The proposal of Ernst Mayr

In the two preceding sections we have sought to emphasize that Saint Thomas begins with the presupposition that there exists directionality in nature, i.e. that in the natural world everything acts for an end, following a certain order.31 Aquinas took this idea from Aristotle, who had spoken in his teaching on physics of the orientation towards ends that characterizes the natural world. He writes:

[i]f then it is both by nature and for an end that the swallow makes its nest and the spider its web, and plants grow leaves for the sake of the fruit and send their roots down (not up) for the sake of nourishment, it is plain that this kind of cause is operative in things which come to be and are by nature. And since ’nature’ means two things, the matter and the form, of which the latter is the end, and since all the rest is for the sake of the end, the form must be the cause in the sense of “that for the sake of which.”32

It is clear, then, that the Peripatetics, in their approach to the problem of the teleology of the physical world, offer finalistic explanations of the organic parts and of the behavior of living beings that sound strikingly like modern adaptationist explanations.33 Even more, when Aristotle and his disciples write about the development of living beings, their explanations, Krieger says, are similar to those used by contemporary biologists, and which lack any reference to a principle

31. This directionality exists in all beings in the natural world: “Again, we should notice that, although every agent, both natural and voluntary, intends an end, still it does not follow that every agent knows the end or deliberates about the end. To know the end is necessary in those whose actions are not determined, but which may act for opposed ends as, for example, voluntary agents. Therefore it is necessary that these know the end by which they determine their actions. But in natural agents the actions are determined, hence it is not necessary to choose those things which are for the end”. Thomas Aquinas. De principiis naturae, III. 32. Aristotle. Physics, 199a 25-30 (Hardie, R. P.; Gaye, R. K. Physica in the Works of Aristotle. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1930). Another finalistic explanation is offered by Aristotle concerning the rain: “[t] he efficient, controlling and first cause is the circle of the sun’s revolution. For it is evident [... that it] is thus the cause of generation and destruction. The earth is at rest and the moisture about it is evaporated by the sun’s rays and the other heat from above and rises upwards; but when the heat which caused it to rise leaves it [...] the vapor cools and condenses again as a result of the loss of heat and the height and turns from air into water: and having become water falls again onto the earth [...] This cycle occurs in imitation of the sun’s cycle.” Aristotle. Meteorology, 346b20-36, translated by Webster, Erwin Wentworth. Meteorologica. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1931. 33. Lennox, James. “Teleology”, Keywords in Evolutionary Biology, Evelyn Fox Keller, Elisabeth Lloyd, eds. Cambridge (Mass.): Harvard University Press, 1992: 327.

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of movement that is extrinsic to the thing itself (such as the First Motor of the Stagirite), but instead admit an intrinsic principle of movement in certain beings34. The entire natural world, in this way, experiences a kind of dynamism, to such a degree that the order of nature is only intelligible to us on its basis.35 This dynamism does not express itself in an arbitrary way: natural beings present a definite tendentiality, in accordance with a series of spatio-temporal and functional patterns belonging to each being: there exist a great variety of possible processes in function of the concurrence of the different dynamisms, but the processes revolve around specific patterns.36 If this is so, the laws of nature, which are the expression of the tendentiality and regularity of the physical world, contain clear information about the possible course of events, information that expresses the possibilities of this natural dynamism when certain concrete conditions hold. This information, as Artigas says, has a dynamic aspect (patterns of processes) and a structural aspect (patterns of spatial structure); the two aspects are interwoven and integrated into the successive developments of this dynamism.37 Given that in nature we experience the existence of final causality, in the realm of the living, which belongs to the natural world, it will also be possible to identify the presence of an order or teleology. This is the thesis of Ernst Mayr, the German biologist and historian of science, who holds that no other doctrine has so influenced biology as teleology has (one should bear in mind that this doctrine constituted the predominant vision of the world prior to Darwin).38 Furthermore, the belief in a finality in nature (specifically, at the level of the living) still occupies “considerable space” in various recent philosophies of biology. It hardly needs to be said that the characteristics of all living organisms are, to a certain degree, teleological: the wings of a bird serve for flying; the eyes of animals, for seeing; the kidneys are structured in order to regulate the composition of the blood, etc.39 These bodily structures represent, in some way, a natural capacity for adaptation. This can be seen, for instance, in wings and in hands, in organs like the kidneys, or in behaviors like the “courtship display” of the turkey.40

34. Krieger, Gerald. “Transmogrifying teleological talk?”. History and Philosophy of the Life Sciences, 20 (1998): 7. 35. Artigas, Mariano. La inteligibilidad de la naturaleza. Pamplona: Ediciones de la Universidad de Navarra, 1992: 23 and following. 36. Artigas, Mariano. Filosofía de la naturaleza. Pamplona: Ediciones de la Universidad de Navarra, 2008: 286. 37. Artigas, Mariano. La inteligibilidad de la naturaleza...: 126-127. 38. Mayr, Ernst. What Makes Biology Unique? Considerations on the Autonomy of a Scientific Discipline. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2004: 39. 39. Other examples of this teleology of the human body are the preservation of bodily temperature or homeostatic reactions in general, as well as all the other functional structures designed anatomically and physiologically for fulfilling a certain function. For more on this issue: Ayala, Francisco. “Teleological Explanations in Evolutionary Biology”. Philosophy of Science, 37 (1970): 8-9. 40. Dobzhansky, Theodosius. Evolution. San Francisco: Freeman, 1977: 328.

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Given this explanation of final causes in biological science, the idea of a teleology of nature, despite its strongly theological foundations, has been a thesis shared even by authors who do not believe in the hand of God but who do believe in a progressive tendency of the world towards an always-growing perfection,41 a kind of tendency or inclination of things towards their own perfection (an idea which, by the way, has a strong presence in the work of Saint Thomas Aquinas, Aristotle and Stoic philosophy). The teleological vision became increasingly strong within philosophy, beginning with the Greeks and continuing up to the 18th and 19th centuries, retaining its place when Christianity constituted its primary source of support.42 In Mayr’s opinion, keeping in mind the concept of a scala naturae, understood as the inclination or tendency of natural objects towards their own perfection, there were few philosophers that didn’t believe in progress and improvement. Even scientists like Lamarck had believed in something like a natural finalism.43 Consequently —and despite the fact that in the era of evolutionist synthesis (primarily the first half of the 20th century) there were virtually no biologists who gave credence to final causality— the belief in the teleology of the natural order was able to discover, outside the field of philosophy of biology, a terrain that was even more favorable. Thus, as Mayr points out, almost all the thinkers who wrote about evolutionary change in the 100 years following 1859 were convinced finalists. Further, all three philosophers closest to Darwin —Whewell, Herschel, and Mill— believed in final causes.44 In sum, the refutation of a teleological reading of the natural world developed by scientists of an evolutionist stripe did not eliminate philosophy’s concern about a constitutive finality of nature. Behavior directed towards an end is found everywhere in the organic world; for instance, the majority of the activities linked with migration, the hunt for food, courtship, ontogeny and all the phases of reproduction are characterized by this orientation to ends.45

4. Ways of understanding the Thomist argument

Now that these clarifications have been made, we can enter into the problem that arises from applying the indicated principles to the specifically human realm. Can we believe that in our spirit and in its operations it also happens that igitur vehementius in

41. Mayr, Ernst. What Makes Biology Unique?...: 41. 42. Mayr, Ernst. What Makes Biology Unique?...: 41. 43. Mayr, Ernst. What Makes Biology Unique?...: 41 44. Mayr, Ernst. What Makes Biology Unique?...: 43. 45. Mayr, Ernst. Toward a New Philosophy of Biology. Observations of an Evolutionist. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1988: 45.

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aliquid tendit post quam prius, non movetur ad infinitum, sed aliquid determinatum tendit?46 Let us return to the root of the problem: if teleology exists, then it will be possible to recognize analogies between what happens in the material world and what happens in the human realm. Nonetheless, we will have to determine the measure to which those analogies apply and, therefore, the value of the above-mentioned principle as an argument. An argument that is used to support something as different as the thesis that the progressive character of the desire to know shows that it is not in vain, and, even more, that God is its natural objective. There are various ways of understanding the linkage between the movement of bodies and the progressive character of the desire to know. Nevertheless, simplifying a little, we can reduce to two the positions that might apply in this subject matter. The first and strongest could begin by asserting that, since in physics uniformly accelerated movement also indicates the presence of an end point, the movements of that nature which are present in the human being must also lead us to the same consequence. Next, we note that the progressive character of the desire to know is a species within uniformly accelerated movements. We need only apply to the desire to know the consequences that follow from the previous rules and thereby deduce the existence of an object in which this desire to know finds its repose. It has to be said, however, that the weakness of this type of reasoning lies in the fact that it presupposes innumerable premises that are far from being unquestionable. Even among those who maintain a teleological vision of the universe, the univocal application of these principles will surely awaken much resistance. These difficulties do not arise just because of the modern way of understanding nature; rather, they can also be supported by many Thomistic texts where Aquinas brings together and makes his own the Aristotelian teaching that diverse objects should be studied by methods that are similarly diverse. The second way of understanding the problem has less logical force, but is more persuasive. It consists in understanding the text of book III of the Summa contra gentiles in a weaker fashion. According to this approach, Saint Thomas would be fundamentally asserting two facts: first, that there exist uniformly accelerated movements in nature; and second, that the desire to know increases in the human person. From this point the argumentation can continue: in physics, the existence of a movement of this kind is an indicator that there exists an end point for that movement. Otherwise, this type of movement would not exist (in fact, not all movements are of this type). What happens in physics is not accidental; rather, it is yet another example that shows that nature does nothing in vain. Stated in another way, to accept that in the material world there may exist uniformly accelerated movements that lead nowhere would involve postulating a certain regression to infinity.

46. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25, 13: “a thing that tends more forcibly later than earlier, toward an objective, is not moved toward an indefinite objective, but tends toward some determinate thing”.

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As is apparent, Saint Thomas’s explanation of the desire to understand God begins with a consideration of natural movement, i.e. what occurs in the physical world. This leads us to think that, for Aquinas, the central case of natural desire is that of an appetite associated with the movement of bodies. Only in a derivative sense can it be applied to the desire of the soul to know God or the First Cause. In this way, when he speaks of the natural character of movement in the physical world, as well as of the natural character of the appetite to know God, the primary sense of “natural” or “nature” to which he is referring is the one that applies to physical realities. It is from this starting point that he passes to the explanation of human appetites. In Thomist thought this application of the physical sense of nature to other areas of reality seems to be a constant. This is also true for Stoic philosophy which, in dealing with the natural law, does so with a strongly cosmological emphasis. But is this naturalistic explanation of the moral possible for St. Thomas? We think it is not. In contrast to what he does in the rest of the topics he studies, in the realm of morality the concept of nature does not find its primary meaning in physical realities. It is true that Aquinas the theologian speaks of “natural inclinations,” affirming that there are universal tendencies that are common to human beings and non-human things, but the fact that the moral law is natural does not mean that it functions in the way scientific laws do. Having made this assertion, we can ask ourselves: aren’t there movements similar to natural movement in other dimensions of reality? And if there are, will it not also be the case that those movements constitute a powerful indication that they are directed towards a determined place? Let us suppose that we agree that “[t]he more a person knows, the more is he moved by the desire to know,” isn’t that progressivity also a distinctive characteristic of the movements we were mentioning? And if nature never acts in vain, that is, if things have a finality: would it not be reasonable that the desire for knowledge would also be oriented towards an end, and that if that end did not exist it would produce a true frustration of that tendency? If we argue in this manner we perhaps lose rigor, but we have the advantage of seeing that the principle “a thing that tends more forcibly later than earlier, toward an objective, is not moved toward an indefinite objective, but tends toward some determinate thing” is found in physics by simple observation of the fall of bodies; however, it has an application that is broader than that discipline alone. Not because physics applies to the entire human world, but because the human spirit and the relations of bodies are two zones of reality, and the principle cited is constitutive of all the real —and not just physics— at least when things are viewed from a teleological point of view. That is, we are not claiming here that physics applies to what goes beyond it, but rather that even physics is subjected to certain principles that are applicable to the entirety of reality. In short, we are affirming the possibility of a metaphysic, that is, of suprasensible principles. Nonetheless, there is an important difference between the probative value of the principle “a thing that tends more forcibly later than earlier, toward

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an objective, is not moved toward an indefinite objective, but tends toward some determinate thing” in the two fields. In physics it is applicable because otherwise we would have to accept a regression to infinity. In the human field, to the contrary, it applies because the alternative is not reasonable, since it would mean accepting that the world is a tease and lacks meaning. But this lack of meaning is possible, or at least we can affirm it: in fact, many of our contemporaries do so. What we have discussed up to now shows that the Thomistic argument in Summa contra gentiles III, 25 can be understand in diverse ways according to the strength and univocity that are attributed to his claims. The less univocal these affirmations are, the more defensible the argument will be in the face of criticisms by modern and contemporary thinkers. At the same time, however, the argument will have less probative value.47 Going to extremes, it does not seem that this argument has a merely metaphorical value for Saint Thomas. But we also cannot read him in a univocal manner, as a rationalist would do. At base, this brief text is related to the very character of Summa contra gentiles in which it is integrated. If it is a case, as is usually claimed, of a work that is intended to support those who are going to evangelize non-Christians, we would have to understand it as one among a stock of arguments —perhaps like what the Aristotelian Topica does. These arguments, naturally, are only sketched out and it would be task of the reader to adapt them to the argument that he is involved in. In that case, the interlocutor would be a non-Christian who accepts the teachings of Aristotle. It is not accidental, then, that the bases of the argumentation are Aristotelian: the principle of movement of heavy bodies, on the one hand, and the natural and progressive character of the desire to know. If we add to this a teleological context through which to see the world —which every Aristotelian would agree to without any problem— then we have a situation where the conclusions would not be difficult to accept by an interlocutor like the one St. Thomas has in mind. Naturally, a question comes to the fore: what is the value of all of this if the interlocutor is not an Aristotelians? Aquinas did not know of this problem, because the question of the truth of the Aristotelian theory only arose with the advent of modern science. Nevertheless, we believe we can say that, with some modifications, and attributing a less apodictic character to his assertions, his argument is plausible.

5. Human knowledge and the natural desire to know

This final section is dedicated to the study of the principal implications for human knowledge that this affirmation of a natural desire to know would have. Aquinas’s idea is a clear application of the Aristotelian principle of the desire to understand the truth that appears in Metaphysics A 1. It is also an analogous version of the desire

47. In order to see the importance of the intellectual contexts in which these diverse arguments are developed, it will be illustrative to consult: Smith, Barry. “Zum Wesen des Common sense: Aristoteles und die naive Physik”. Zeitschrift für philosophische Forschung, 46 (1992): 510 and following.

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to know causes, or of the desire for happiness, that St. Thomas discusses in other passages of the Corpus thomisticum. The Thomistic argument begins with the affirmation of God’s existence,qua first object of desire.48 This object moves all things by love,49 as Aristotle teaches in Book XII of the Metaphysics. For this reason, it has been thought that what is characteristic of God seen as First Mover is His condition as “appealing.” Some authors have noted that, for these purposes, “appeal” and “desire” refer to the same reality in the work of St. Thomas.50 Nevertheless, the terms “appetite” and “appeal” have a more generic and undetermined meaning, in the sense that they can be applied even to beings which lack knowledge. For their part, the terms “desire” as a noun and “to desire” have, in general, a meaning that is more specific and determined, being usable, stricto sensu, with those beings that have knowledge.51 Saint Thomas himself proves that the notion of “desire” necessarily implies a form of knowledge. As he observes, even non-sentient creates act via a type of intellectual apprehension, not that which it itself can attain, but rather the knowledge of the first motors, that order each thing to its end: and therefore without knowledge they have no delight nor joy at all.52 Similarly, if the First Motor is our principal object of desire, as well as the end of all things, that motor must be a type of kind of knowing agent that, at least, attracts things towards itself because of its own knowledge. Given that the desire to know is what responds to the problem of the end of man, this movement of the subject is the root of all appetite. In the case of the human being, St. Thomas believes that this desire is related to the hunger of the creature to become like the divine substance,53 which is explained by the fact that everything desires its own perfection.54 Now, a thing is perfect by its form, since it exists by its form, and a thing is perfect insofar as it is. But since the form of the effect is a likeness of the form of the agent,

ya que todo agente obra algo símil a si mismo, el mismo agente es apetecido y tiene razón de bien, porque la razón por la cual es apetecido es para participar en esa similitud, recibiéndola

48. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, I, 37. 49. Thomas Aquinas. Sententia libri Metaphysicae, XII, 9. 50. For example: Laporta, Jorge. “Pour trouver le sens exact des terms appetitus naturalis, desiderium naturale, amor naturalis, etc. chez Thomas d’Aquin”. Archives d’Histoire Doctrinale et Littéraire du Moyen Age, 48 (1973): 57 and following. 51. Cambiasso, Jorge. El deseo de entender la verdad en la “Summa contra gentiles”...: 156. 52. Thomas Aquinas. Scriptum super Sententiis, I, 1, 4, 1. 53. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, II, 43. 54. In this sense, St. Thomas writes: “since every agent produces something similar to itself, the same agent is desired and has the ratio of the good, because the reason that it is desired is in order to participate in that likeness, receiving it or imitating it. Therefore, if this agent is the divine Agent, all things desire His likeness.” Summa contra gentiles, II, 81 (“[i]n qualibet re quae potest pertingere ad aliquam perfectionem, invenitur naturalis appetitus illius perfectionis: bonum enim est quod omnia appetunt, ita tamen quod unumquodque proprium bonum.”) “[t]hen, too, in every thing capable of attaining certain perfection, we find a natural desire for that perfection, since good is what all things desire, yet in such fashion that each thing desires the good proper to itself.”

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o imitándola. Por lo cual, si este agente es el Agente divino, todas las cosas apetecen a su semejanza 55

As a manner of proving the argument, St. Thomas states that everything created, and not just man, attempts to liken itself to the divine goodness. He writes,

[o]mnis res per suum motum vel actionem tendit in aliquod bonum sicut in finem, ut supra ostensum est. In tantum autem aliquid de bono participat, in quantum assimilatur primae bonitati, quae Deus est. Omnia igitur per motus suos et actiones tendunt in divinam similitudinem sicut in finem ultimum.56

Despite this, creatures do not attain the good (which is their perfection) as it is in God, although each one of them copies, in its own way, the goodness of the First Cause. For God it is the same thing to be, to live, to be wise, to be blessed, and to be whatever else seems to belong to perfection and goodness. This does not occur in creatures, which are not their own being. Therefore, if created things are good insofar as they exist, and because none of them is its own being, none of them is its own goodness. Rather, each of them is good by participation in goodness, just as it is being by participation in existing being itself.57 The reason for recognizing that creatures aspire to likeness with the divine substance is rooted in the fact that that substance is its cause. Things tend to the divine likeness because it is supremely good, as has been said. Now, it is as a result of the goodness of God that He confers being on all things, for a being acts by virtue of the fact that it is actually perfect. Later Saint Thomas concludes, and so, things tend toward the divine likeness by the fact that they are causes of others.58 The relation between the ordering of reality by a First Mover, the fact of divine causality and the idea of likeness to God, is seen most clearly in the case of the human being. As Aquinas observes, the human being naturally desires to know the cause of any known effect. Now, human understanding knows universal being. He desires, in fact, to know his own cause, which is God alone. But nobody attains to his ultimate end as long as his desire is not quenched. [n]on sufficit igitur ad felicitatem humanam, quae est ultimus finis, qualiscumque intelligibilis cognitio, nisi divina cognitio adsit, quae terminat naturale desiderium sicut ultimus finis59

55. Cambiasso, Jorge. El deseo de entender la verdad en la “Summa contra gentiles”...: 226. It is important to note that God Himself is the one who has embedded his likeness in creates things: Summa contra gentiles, II, 45. 56. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 19: “[f]urthermore, everything tends through its motion or action toward a good, as its end. Now, a thing participates in the good precisely to the same extent that it becomes like the first goodness, which is God. So, all things tend through their movements and actions toward the divine likeness, as toward their ultimate end”. 57. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 20. 58. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 21. 59. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25: “Therefore, for human happiness, which is the ultimate end, it is not enough to have merely any kind of intelligible knowledge; there must be divine knowledge, as an ultimate end, to terminate the natural desire”.”).

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Given that the knowledge of God is the final end of knowledge and of human action,

[f]inis igitur intellectus est finis omnium actionum humanarum. Finis autem et bonum intellectus est verum: et per consequens ultimus finis primum verum. Est igitur ultimus finis totius hominis, et omnium operationum et desideriorum eius, cognoscere primum verum, quod est Deus.60

This allows us to conclude that the natural desire that Aquinas is referring to has a determined object. It is not an abstract or disconnected appetite. This movement ends with the intellectual grasp of the First Cause.61 Human happiness, in this sense, does not consist in an act of the will. Blessedness only exists in rational creatures, as opposed to the delectation of the appetite, which we even see in creatures lacking reason. Finally, we arrive at the question about the nature of this desire. For despite what has been discussed so far, some authors think this appetite is not linked in any way with the vision of God.62 Saint Thomas himself seems to incline towards this reading in De veritate q. 22, a. 7. However, this is not a datum that is contrary to our interpretation. On the contrary, in the text of De veritate Saint Thomas is referring to the problem of justification, and not to the issue of the human end. When he turns to that topic he does not hesitate to assert that the natural desire of the human being is the vision of the first cause.63 In regards to the nature of this desire, a first possibility is that it is a “desire of the will.” If this is true, the natural desire to see God would be an elicit-conditional movement that belongs to the realm of psychology,64 and that is preceded by intellectual apprehension. Its conditional character is explained by the fact that it consists in a desire which can express itself in the following terms: I would desire to see God if that were possible.65

60. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25: “the end of the intellect is the end of all human actions. ’But the end and good of the intellect are the true;’ consequently, the supreme truth is the ultimate end. So, the ultimate end of the whole man, and of all his operations and desires, is to know the first truth, which is God”. 61. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25. 62. Gaboriau, Florent. Thomas d’Aquin en dialogue. Paris: Fac, 1993: 81 and following. 63. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 57. The perfection of the understanding depends on the human being having achieved the knowledge (or vision) of God. This desire is a natural desire, which materializes as admiration-desire, and which is grounded in the self-evidence of the principle that the knowledge of the ultimate causes of reality is good for the human being. Its natural character is shown by the fact that once we comprehend the existence of God, the desire to know His essence arises naturaliter, without any deliberation: Feingold, Lawrence. The Natural Desire to See God according to St. Thomas Aquinas and His Interpreters. Rome: Sapientia Press, 2010: 44. 64. Laporta, Jorge. “Les notions d’appétit naturel et de puissance obédientielle chez S Thomas d’Aquin”. Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses, 5 (1928): 257 and following. 65. Pacheco, Cipriano Franco. O desejo natural da visão de Deus...: 35.

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In the second place —and this is the interpretation we believe to be correct— this desire that is natural to man would be equivalent to a “desire of reason,” understood as a metaphysical reality.66 This means that this kind of appetitive movement derives from the action of the First Mover in man, which imprints, in conformity with the nature of each being, the tendency towards or necessity of seeing the deity. It represents, in this sense, a basic and constitutive inclination of human life, a form of tendency that marks one of the goods that constitute the integral development of every human being: the truth.

6. Man as capax Dei

The natural desire to see God and the natural capacity of reason to know Him are a demonstration that man truly is capax Dei.67 This expression, which apparently was first used by Rufinus, was intensively developed by Saint Augustine,68 who turns it into a central problem for Christian philosophy. Hence, when Thomas Aquinas discusses the meaning of this expression, he is following on a rich tradition of thought. Beginning with Augustine’s De Trinitate, and integrating the contributions of the Fathers of the Church and of the great masters of Dominican and Franciscan theology about man as imago Dei, he unites this truth with Aristotle’s teaching about the natural desire to know, possessed by every man because of his condition as a rational animal. Aquinas affirms that all beings seek their own perfection, and that the perfection of each being is dependent on its nature. Thus, the plenitude of each thing must be appropriate to its substantial form, and for humans their substantial form is the intellect. Now, if the intellect were not able to know God, who is, says Saint Thomas, the principle of perfection of all things, it would not experience the natural desire we have been discussing in this article. This natural desire would thus be in vain, and contrary to nature’s manner of behaving, for nature never acts vainly.69 The definition of man ascapax Dei has a strong theological and supernatural root, because, as Saint Thomas states, capax Dei means capax aeternae vitae70 (he also speaks of capax gratiae and capax beatae cognitionis). However, it seems to us that the meaning

66. Laporta, Jorge. Les notions d’appétit naturel et de puissance...: 257-277. 67. For an examination of the relationship between the issues of man as capax Dei and of the natural desire to see God, Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae I, 93, 2 and I-II, 3, 8. 68. Saint Augustine. De Trinitate, XIV, 8, 11. 69. Saint Thomas says: [q]uia naturale desiderium nihil aliud est quam inclinatio inhaerens rebus ex ordinatione primi moventis, quae non potest esse supervacua. Thomas Aquinas. Sententia libri Ethicorum, I, 2, 21, translated by Litzinger, C.I.: Thomas Aquinas. Commentary of the Nicomachean Ethics. Chicago: Regnery, 1964: “a natural desire is nothing else but an inclination belonging to things by the disposition of the first mover, and this cannot be frustrated”. 70. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, I, 23, 1.

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of this human capacity can be understood more simply as the capacity to know the truth (and the truth of truths): the human being is capable of God insofar as he is able to know the truth. To conclude: man is capax Dei because he is capax veritatis. What is interesting about this argument is that it permits relating the theology of St. Thomas to his philosophy and epistemology. Man is capax Dei because of a divine gift. God has freely given him that capacity, and understanding this is a question of theology. But interpreting this condition as the capacity to know the truth, and, as Aquinas thinks, to know the full truth or the first truth, is something that demands a purely rational argument. Indeed, Aquinas thinks that what we know solely by natural reason is that God is above all things that exist and that He is the principle of all that exists. The thesis of Saint Thomas is as follows:

secundum quod naturam alicuius rei ex eius proprietatibus et effectibus cognoscere possumus, sic eam nomine possumus significare. Unde, quia substantiam lapidis ex eius proprietate possumus cognoscere secundum seipsam, sciendo quid est lapis, hoc nomen lapis ipsam lapidis naturam, secundum quod in se est, significat, significat enim definitionem lapidis, per quam scimus quid est lapis. Ratio enim quam significat nomen, est definitio, ut dicitur in IV Metaphys. Sed ex effectibus divinis divinam naturam non possumus cognoscere secundum quod in se est, ut sciamus de ea quid est; sed per modum eminentiae et causalitatis et negationis [...] Et sic hoc nomen Deus significat naturam divinam. Impositum est enim nomen hoc ad aliquid significandum supra omnia existens, quod est principium omnium, et remotum ab omnibus. Hoc enim intendunt significare nominantes Deum.71

When Aquinas explains what it means to say that there is a natural desire in man to see God, which means that he is capax Dei, he begins with the idea that this natural desire depends on a natural inclination, present in all creatures, to unite themselves with their principle, which is God.72 In addition, in the case of man, this desire expresses the natural tendency that he has to beatitude or happiness.73 In the previous section I said that the natural desire discussed in Summa contra gentiles cannot be understood apart from the explanation of the natural desire to know that Saint Thomas gives in his Sententia libri Metaphysicae. In its operation, the human intellect receives a kind of “push” towards the knowledge of the quid of the things that surround him. Human knowledge is, thus, the perception of the quid, and not the perception of the external and inessential attributes of the thing.

71. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, I, 13, 8: “we can name a thing according to the knowledge we have of its nature from its properties and effects. Hence, because we can know what stone is in itself from its property, this name “stone” signifies the nature of the stone itself; for it signifies the definition of stone, by which we know what it is, for the idea which the name signifies is the definition, as is said in Metaph. IV. Now from the divine effects we cannot know the divine nature in itself, so as to know what it is; but only by way of eminence, and by way of causality, and of negation [...] Thus the name “God” signifies the divine nature, for this name was imposed to signify something existing above all things, the principle of all things and removed from all things; for those who name God intend to signify all this”. 72. Thomas Aquinas. Sententia libri Metaphysicae, I, 1. 73. For example, in Summa theologiae we read that man is capax summi boni (I, 93, 2) and is capax beatitudinis (II-II, 25, 12).

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This “push” is what Aquinas has called “the natural desire to understand the why of things.” This desire originates with wonder, and does not rest until the mind is able to grasp the essence of the cause. This is why the natural desire to know is related to the problem of the happiness of the human being. Part of happiness involves the mind’s grasping the essence of the First Cause: this is the way a human being attains his perfection. Man is only fulfilled when the intellect receives God as the object of its desiring.74 In consequence, in his acts of knowledge man experiences a radical inclination to know the First Cause of all things. This inclination is due to the action of God Himself, who orders and defines the inclinations of each being according to what is most appropriate to its essential structure. In the case of the human being, God does not just impose certain natural inclinations, e.g. to the preservation of one’s own life, or to life in society. Rather, He also provides man with a special capacity to attain to God: to see Him, to love Him, to know Him personally. Therefore, by his nature, and because of the nature of his intelligence, the human being is capable of God. He is able to receive God in himself by the path of knowledge. What does it mean to say that the human being is capable of God? Here it means that he is able to know God without any violation or even modification of the nature of his intellect, or of his nature in general. God as an object of knowledge is related to man as the infinite relates with the finite; nonetheless, the human being that sees God continues to be a man. The human being, despite his finite nature, has the potency to possess the infinite and rest in it.75 Finally, even though all things seek to unite themselves to God, only the human being is capax Dei, because only he can love God and know Him.76 Only the human being is made in the image and likeness of God, and only he can attain to a personal relationship with the Creator:

[a]d secundum dicendum quod similitudo imaginis attenditur in natura humana secundum quod est capax Dei, scilicet ipsum attingendo propria operatione cognitionis et amoris. Similitudo autem vestigii attenditur solum secundum repraesentationem aliquam ex impressione divina in creatura existentem, non autem ex eo quod creatura irrationalis, in qua est sola talis similitudo possit ad Deum attingere per solam suam operationem. Quod autem deficit a minori, non habet congruitatem ad id quod est maius, sicut corpus quod non est aptum perfici anima sensitiva, multo minus est aptum perfici anima intellectiva. Multo autem est maior et perfectior unio ad Deum secundum esse personale quam quae est secundum operationem. Et ideo creatura irrationalis, quae deficit ab unione ad Deum per operationem, non habet congruitatem ut uniatur ei secundum esse personale.77

74. Thomas Aquinas. Sententia libri De anima, III, 9, 726. 75. Rhonheimer, Martin. The Perspective of Morality. Philosophical Foundations of Thomistic Virtue Ethics. Washington DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2011: 79-80. 76. Thomas Aquinas. De veritate, XXII, 2. It is worth emphasizing that for Saint Thomas, all rational beings know God in every cognition, because just as nothing can be seen as good except by its similitude with the first goodness, nothing is knowable other than through its similarity with the first truth. 77. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae, III, 4, 1: “The likeness of image is found in human nature, forasmuch as it is capable of God, viz. by attaining to Him through its own operation

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7. Final considerations

At the beginning of our article we showed how St. Thomas applies the argument from natural movement to the problem of the knowledge of God qua ultimate end of human life. What Aquinas wanted to do is highlight the fact that the spiritual development of human beings is not found in an activity of the will or of the appetites, but rather in an act of reason, and, in particular, in the act of vision- intellection of the greatest object of knowledge that exists. The relation between knowledge and natural movement isn’t arbitrary. Just as a body tends to its proper place by natural appetite, the more rapidly and forcefully it moves the closer it gets to its end; similarly, our intelligence experiences a greater impulse or desire to know the greater knowledge of reality we have. Since we are spiritual and personal beings, human beings have a thirst for knowledge that is unquenchable. Reality demands our attention, it is there waiting to be known. For example, we can point to that urge that certain European explorers of the 18th and 19th centuries felt to know all the regions of the world that were, until then, unknown to Europe.78 In this sense, the thesis that supports St. Thomas’s idea is that, in order to desire to know, it is necessary to know something. And thus, the more one knows, the greater impetus this natural desire to know will have. This impulse,79 which, as Spaemann says, is a sign that reason is the form of life of the human being,80 can only be understood as a desire for knowledge of causes. This is a natural desire unleashed by wonder in the face of what is, and which pushes him onwards with his search for knowledge.81 This appetite does not rest until the intelligence has grasped the essence of the causes. It follows that the grasping of the essence of the First Cause forms part of the human felicitas. Therefore, it is sufficient for the human being to experience the good of knowledge in order that that natural desire will affect him with greater strength. Given that, the more it nears its natural place, the truth of truths, the more our reason moves faster towards it.

of knowledge and love. But the likeness of trace regards only a representation by Divine impression, existing in the creature, and does not imply that the irrational creature, in which such a likeness is, can attain to God by its own operation alone. For what does not come up to the less, has no fitness for the greater; as a body which is not fitted to be perfected by a sensitive soul is much less fitted for an intellectual soul. Now much greater and more perfect is the union with God in personal being than the union by operation. And hence the irrational creature which falls short of the union with God by operation has no fitness to be united with Him in personal being”. 78. Vázquez, David. La virtud de la studiositas y el conocimiento. Un estudio desde Santo Tomás de Aquino. Pamplona: Servicio de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Navarra, 2012: 14 and following. 79. For a review of the relationship there is between desire and impulse in Thomas Aquinas, Mondin, Battista. Dizionario enciclopedico del pensiero di San Tommaso d’Aquino. Bolonia: Studio Domenicano, 2000: 198. 80. Spaemann, Robert. Persons. The Difference...: 89 and following. 81. Rhonheimer, Martin. The Perspective of Morality...: 77-78.

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In short, this explanation is similar to the one that Plato gives for the origin of love: just as love is the child of abundance and of scarcity, in the same way what characterizes human knowledge is a kind of tension between knowing and not knowing. The desire to know God is an experience of this kind of movement: without a little knowledge one could not desire the knowledge of the causes, not even the closest causes. Nevertheless, to the degree that this desire is sated, that is, to the degree that one distances oneself from scarcity, our reason moves with greater strength and rapidity towards the intellection of the Cause of causes. Similarly, when one first actualizes the desire to know, one is not completely unknowing. Absolute ignorance is not conscious of itself, and, as a consequence, it doesn’t direct itself to anything. Therefore, there is something of wealth in our manner of experiencing the desire of happiness, because reason would not work to know God if it didn’t already possess a form of knowledge in act. And thus, writes Saint Thomas, the more things one knows the more the desire to know affects him.82

82. Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra gentiles, III, 25.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 265-286 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.12 The role of the batlle general and Acquafredda castle IN LATE 14TH CENTURY REGNUM SARDINIAE

Alessandra Cioppi Istituto di Storia dell’Europa Mediterranea (Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche) Italy

Date of receipt: 13rd of May, 2014 Final date of acceptance: 19th of May, 2015

Abstract

The present study analyzes the defense and supplies to Acquafredda the Catalan- Aragonese fortress in southern Sardinia survived in the end of the fourteenth century to the attacks of the troops Arborea. Crucial in this context is the role assumed by the general batlle Regnum Sardiniae, whose institutional prerogatives of director and head of the royal heritage mix up with political, management and defense functions of the Sardinian-Catalan kingdom, on the edge of collapse.1

Keywords

Acquafredda Castle, supply and defence, 14th century, Crown of Aragon, Kingdom of Sardinia.

Capitalia Verba

Castellum Acquae Frigidae, Commeatus et Morimem, Saeculum XIV, Corona Aragonum, Regnum Sardiniae.

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The aim of this study is to examine the vicissitudes of Acquafredda castle, one of the Catalan-Aragonese Regnum Sardiniae’s southernmost fortresses, in order to add a further piece to the complex mosaic of the Sardinian-Catalan kingdom’s defensive th 2 organisation in the late 14 1century. Whilst it is territorially limited and chronologically specific, an overview of the castle’s history enables the historic context of which it is part to be better identified and evaluated. This essay will concentrate on the more concrete and domestic aspects of its everyday affairs throwing lights on elements, situations and customs which highlight the experiential character of its history and —interpreting the silence of the sources on the subject— contribute to our understanding and reconstruction of living conditions in medieval castles. The documentary material at the heart of this essay is kept at the Archivo General de la Corona de Aragón in Barcelona and is made up of three account books which, Jordi de Planella compiled as a record of the expenses incurred in supplying and defending the surviving southern Sardinian Catalan-Aragonese castles including the Acquafredda fortress in his capacity as Sardinian batlle general.3 To carry out his duties de Planella had extraordinary funds at his disposal which were issued with huge difficulty by Aragon in a last ditch attempt to safeguard its Sardinian kingdom across the seas which, at the turn of the 14th century, was now on the verge of collapse.4

1. The batlle general case study in the Regnum Sardiniae

In the Crown of Aragon’s states, the battlia general was an institution whose activities and influence were truly extraordinary not only in terms of the great importance and dignity of the role itself but also as a result of the myriad contacts which had to be kept up constantly with functionaries, aristocrats, influential individuals and, at the same time, ordinary people, the authority which it succeeded in exerting over these, the many contexts in which it was authorised to intervene and, above all, for the ongoing and fundamentally important relations which it kept up with the king. The main duties of the batlle general were to administer the royal patrimony for which purpose taxes were raised taxes, civil and criminal jurisdiction exerted in a very wide range of contexts and feudal and trading duties performed. His sphere of competence also included matters relating to fairs and markets, mills and public

1. Used abbreviations: ACA, Archivo de la Corona de Aragón; ASCa, Archivio di Stato di Cagliari. 2. Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità. Corona d’Aragona e Regnum Sardiniae nella seconda metà del Trecento. Cagliari: Istituto di Storia dell'Europa Mediterranea (Consiglio Nazionale delle Richerche)- AM&D Edizioni, 2012: 147-158. 3. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, 2485, 2486. 4. On the events of the great Sardinian-Iberian conflict, see Casula, Francesco Cesare.La Sardegna aragonese. 1. La Corona d’Aragona, 2. La Nazione Sarda. Sassari: Chiarella, 1990.

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water, customs and vacant goods, booty and goods acquired from shipwrecks, and importing and exporting goods.5 In the performance of his duties, especially those relating to the royal patrimony and taxation, a fiscal prefect worked alongside him and —despite the eminence of his role— his financial management was subject to the supervision of the Magistrorum Rationarum. The office ofbatllia general, unknown in Sardinia but well established as early as the 13th century in the Crown of Aragon’s other states, was set up in Sardinia by King John I and given the task of administrating the royal patrimony on the island in full autonomy and raising revenues for the severely compromised royal finances.6 The King had, in fact, taken note of the negligence and incompetence of the royal functionaries who he blamed for a financial collapse that meant that the kingdom’s finances were no longer sufficient to pay even its urgent necessities let alone to ensure the defence of its Sardinian territories.7 However, whilst misappropriation of funds by officials was common practice and palpable, it was not the only cause of the financial crisis of a kingdom which underwent one of the most complex and delicate in its history from the late 14th to the early 15th centuries not only in the Regnum Sardiniae but in all crown territories. A virtually permanent state of war was the central feature of the Aragon crown’s conflictive internal and external relations and the immense military expenses required on various fronts prompted the Catalan kings to progressively greater alienation of their patrimony.8

5. On the role of the batlle general: Aragó, Antonio Maria. “La Institución Baiulus regis en Cataluña en la época de Alfonso el Casto”, VII Congreso de Historia de la Corona de Aragón (Barcelona, 1-6 octubre 1962) Comunicaciones. Barcelona: Vídua de Fidel Rodríguez, 1962: III, 137-142; Montagut, Tomàs de. “El batlle general de Catalunya”. Hacienda Pública Española, 87 (1984): 73-84; García de Valdeavellano, Luis. Curso de historia de las istituciones españolas. De los orígenes al final de la Edad Media. Madrid: Ediciones de la Revista de Occidente, 1968: 516-517. About the batlle general in Valencia: Piles, Leopoldo. Estudio documental sobre el bayle general de Valencia, su autoridad y jurisdicción. Valencia: Institución Alfonso el Magnánimo-Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1970; Guinot, Enric. “La batllia general de València: gestors i beneficiaris”, Col·loqui Corona, Municipis i Fiscalitat a la Baixa Edat Mitjana, Manuel Sánchez, Antoni Furió, eds. Lleida: Intitut d’Estudis Ilerdencs, 1997: 577-601. About batlle general in Catalonia: Sánchez, Manuel. “Batlle”, Diccionari d’Història de Catalunya, Jesús Mestre, Josep Maria Salrach, Josep Termes, eds. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1992: 111. Note that it was only with the Decrets de Nova Planta (1707-1716) that the institution of the batllia general was dismantled in the Iberian Peninsula and his duties passed to the Intendencia. 6. John I attempted to exert greater control over the management of public offices in order to limit misappropriation. See ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 173; Casula, Francesco Cesare. Carte reali diplomatiche di Giovanni I il Cacciatore, re d’Aragona, riguardanti l’Italia. Padova: CEDAM, 1977: 65 (doc. No. 36), 151 (doc. No. 129), 159 (doc. No. 135). 7. A reading of the documents of the era make clear that not only did royal officials not respect the king’s orders but they also frequently pursued their own private interests. See Casula, Francesco Cesare. Carte Reali Diplomatiche...: 65 (doc. No. 36), 151 (doc. No. 129), 159 (doc. No. 135) and ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 173r. 8. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “El patrimoni reial i la recuperació dels senyorius jurisdiccionals en els estats catalano-aragonesos a la fi del segle XIV”.Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 7 (1970-1971), 351-491: 351-353 and ther final balance sheets relating to the years of patrimonial sales; Sánchez, Manuel. “La fiscalidad real en Catalunya (siglo XIV)”.Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 22 (1992): 341-376; Guinot, Enric. “El Patrimoni Reial al País Valencià a inicis del segle XV”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 22 (1992): 581-655; Sánchez, Manuel. El naixement de la fiscalitat d’Estat a Catalunya. Girona: Eumo Editorial, 1995:

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Specifically as far as the increasingly complex Sardinian question resulting from its state of ongoing war with the Giudicato of Arborea was concerned, King Peter IV had been attempting to overhaul the founding principles of the island’s government for some time.9 He had made his presence felt on various occasions in this matter often on explicit request of the island’s governors, bringing previously issued orders to their attention and issuing new ones on matters relating to royal administration and, in particular, on officials’ salaries and duties.10 Despite this, when his son John succeeded him to the throne in 1387 the gravity of the situation forced the new king to take a more thoroughgoing and astute approach to the revenue issue.11 At this challenging juncture, it would appear that the king channelled all his expectations into the establishment of the batllia general, entrusting the kingdom’s financial management to a single individual with wide supervisory powers in the hope that this would increase the effectiveness of the crown’s financial controls.12 Having abolished the two Capo di Cagliari e Gallura and Capo di Logudoro administrations, John I created a new office whose duties were to encompass not only the prerogatives of its original institutional function

107-134; Sánchez, Manuel. Pagar al rey en la Corona de Aragón durante el s. XIV. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas-Institución Milá y Fontanals, 2003; Ortí, Pere. Corts, Parlaments i fiscalitat a Catalunya: els capítols del donatiu (1288-1384). Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 1997: 71- 87; Mira, Antonio José. Entre la renta y el impuesto. Fiscalidad, finanzas y crecimiento económicos en la villas reales del sur valencianos (siglos XIV-XVI). Valencia: Publicacions de la Universitat de València, 2005; López, José Francisco. “Para una historia fiscal de la Mallorca cristiana (siglos XIII-XIV)”.Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 38/1 (enero-junio 2008): 101-184; Sabaté, Flocel. “L’augment de l’exigència fiscal en els municipis catalans al segle XIV: elements de pressió i de resposta”, Col·loqui Corona, Municipis i Fiscalitat a la Baixa Edat Mitjana, Manuel Sánchez, Antoni Furió, eds. Lleida: Intitut d’Estudis Ilerdencs, 1997: 423- 465 and all the essays in this miscellaneous volume. 9. Corruption amongst crown functionaries was already endemic in Peter IV’s reign. See Cort general de Montsó (1382-1384), Ignasi Baiges, Anna Rubió, Elisa Varela, eds. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 1992: 219-242. 10. Peter IV had already in 1352, prompted by the kingdom’s general governor Rambau de Corbera, approved most of the latter’s chapters issued as a result of his orders relating to a more detailed redistribution of salaries and a more appropriate re-organisation of public offices. See Arienzo, Luisa. Carte reali diplomatiche di Pietro IV il Cerimonioso, re d’Aragona, riguardanti l’Italia. Padova: CEDAM, 1970: 192 (doc. No. 377), 193 (doc. No. 193); Costa, Mercè. “Oficials de Pere el Cerimonios a Sasser (1336- 1387)”, La Sardegna nel mondo mediterraneo. 2. Gli aspetti storici, Atti del primo Convegno internazionale di studi geografico-storici (Sassari, 7-9 aprile 1978), Manlio Brigaglia, ed. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1981: 291-314 and Costa, Maria Mercè. “Oficials de la Corona d’Aragó a Sardenya (segle XIV). Notes biogràfiques”.Archivio Storico Sardo, 29 (1964): 340-343. On Peter IV’s actions compare with Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico di Pietro IV d’Aragona per i territori del Cagliaritano. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1933: 1-78. 11. The original text is ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 145-147v. The expenses amounted to such an enormous sum that the incomes deriving from revenues and the island’s royal taxation together were not sufficient to cover it. In general terms, John I’s pragmatic reproposed the reorganisation orders relating to the Cagliari offices issued thirty-five years earlier by Peter IV. See Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 15-52; Ferrer, M. Teresa. “El patrimoni reial...”: 351-491. 12. For the establishment of the Kingdom of Sardinia’s batlle general, see ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 171 and on the subject of the factors prompting the establishment of this office in the Sardinian kingdom see Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo generale nel regno di Sardegna (1391-1401)”, El poder real en la Corona de Aragón (siglos XIV-XVI), XV Congreso de Historia de la Corona de Aragón (Jaca, 20-25 septiembre 1993). Saragossa: Diputación General de Aragón, 1996): I/3, 93-109.

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but also those of the two general governments of Sardinia and other jurisdictional functions.13 Despite these intentions, the batllia institution lasted only a relatively short time on the island. Martin I succeeded his brother John I in 1396 and abolished it in 1401 considering it incapable of governing the kingdom and raising the kingdom’s revenues.14 In its place, he reinstated the office of general administrator and the two Capo di Cagliari e di Gallura and Capo di Logudoro governorates established by Peter IV.15 This change of direction, however, was not equally long lasting. The issues which had prompted the crown to set up the battlia institution in the Sardinian kingdom remained unresolved in the first decade of the century which followed precisely because its state of permanent war was also unresolved. It was only later, in 1413, during the reign of Ferdinand I and a climate of well-established peace on the island, that the important and effective measures that definitively settled the issue were put into practice.16 The two general administrations were once again abolished and replaced with a new, single patrimonial institution, the royal prefecture.17 The establishment of the Sardinian kingdom’s batllia general was thus made official in February 1391 when John I appointed Berenguer Xicot to the office in a cartha commissionis.18 Five months later the appointment passed to Jordi de Planella, an eminent figure well known at court, whose activities were encompassed within and interwoven into the island’s political-economic fabric from this moment on.19

13. The abolition of the two posts of general administrator appears in ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 171r. On the duties of the Sardinian batlle general, see charta commissionis in ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, ff. 166v-168r; Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità...: 201-229. 14. On the brief life of the Sardinian batllia general, ACA. Cancillería, reg. 2226, ff. 167v-169r; ff. 181v-183v; Boscolo, Alberto. La politica italiana di Martino il Vecchio re d’Aragona. Padua: CEDAM, 1962: 77-80; Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “L’Istituto del «Procurator Regius Regni Sardiniae» sotto Alfonso il Magnanimo”, La Corona d’Aragona e il Mediterraneo: aspetti e problemi comuni da Alfonso il Magnanimo a Ferdinando il Cattolico (1416-1516), IX Congresso di Storia della Corona d’Aragona (Napoli, 11-15 aprile 1973). Naples: Società Napoletana di Storia Patria, 1982: II, 135-145. As well as the single office of thebatlle general —which was generally considered ineffective— an attempt to unify the kingdom had also been made in 1387, once again by John I, when he created the office of treasury lieutenant of Aragon, another ultra short-lived institution. For a more in-depth study, see Tore, Gianfranco. “Il documento istitutivo dell’ufficio di luogotenente del tesoriere d’Aragona nel ’Regno di Sardegna’ (1387)”.Archivio Storico Sardo, 34. (1983): 111-123 and Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “L’Istituto del Procurator Regius...”: 135. 15. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, B6, ff. 265r-268r. 16. Meloni, Giuseppe; Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Demografia e fiscalità nei territori regi del regno di Sardegna al principio del XV secolo”, El poder real en la Corona de Aragón...: I/3, 155-188. 17. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, B6, ff. 265-267. On the establishment of the Sardinian royal prefecture and the roles and importance of this office, see Olla Repetto, Gabriella. Il primo “liber curiae” della Procurazione reale di Sardegna (1413-1425). Rome: Ministero dell’Interno, 1974: 3-76 (Fonti e Sussidi. Pubblicazione degli Archivi di Stato. Archivio di Stato di Cagliari, V); Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “L’istituto del Procurator Regius...”: 136. 18. On the appointment of Berenguer Xicot, see ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, ff. 166v-168r; Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo generale...”: 93-109. 19. The reasons for this passage from one royal mandate to another are still unclear today. Carla Ferrante (Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo...”: 105) refers to the news of the replacement of Xicot

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The continual state of war and the limits on royal power, conflicts of interest and political pressure at the local level, meant that in pratice Planella acquired administrative, political and military duties which profoundly modified the office itself, its institutional functions and the nomination and distribution of his jurisdiction. On this matter, the Barcelona archives provide us with interesting data with which to reconstruct the more practical aspects of his endeavours in the Regnum Sardinae too. These saw him frequently involved in extraordinary activities aimed at safeguarding and recovering the Sardinian kingdom rather than simply the normal exercise of the duties and functions of the batlle general. In the three years from 1396 to 1399, in fact, assisted by other royal offices, Planella administered extraordinary revenues which involved the allocation of a large sum of money —15,050 Aragon gold florins— over three years20 for the purpose of the island’s defence. An accurate account of this financial plan drawn up by thebatlle has survived and shows this royal official accounting for his work. It is this which will be examined here. Each annual allocation of funds corresponded to an account book which notes all incoming and outgoing expense items subdivided into chapters. Original payment acts were attached as well as the receipts issued by the beneficiaries of the various expenses, creditors and suppliers of goods and services showing not only the truth of his accounts but also the effective necessity of the costs incurred.21 The contents of the account books goes well beyond purely local concerns and can thus provide an insight into some aspects of the problems encountered in the active and passive defence of Catalan-Aragonese Sardinia in the second half of the 14th century. Already at the end of Peter IV’s reign, an extremely critical situation resulting from insistent and violent struggles with the Giudicato of Arborea had impacted seriously on Aragonese politics and the actions of the crown in favour of a suitable defence of the Regnum Sardinae. The references in the account books to Planella batlle have supplied new and interesting elements to analyse which have enriched the academic debate and provided insights into the cost of war in the Sardinian kingdom in the last few years of the 14th century when, despite the best efforts of the Catalan monarchy, the stubborn, centuries’ long resistance of the Sardinians across the seas risked dragging Aragon into total disarray.

by Jordi de Planella allo Xicot but reports that she found no mention of the appointment of the latter. The decree or charta commissionis (31st July 1391) with which Planella was nominated batlle has, on the other hand, been found in the Barcelona archive by Alessandra Cioppi. See Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità...: 217 and ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1940, ff. 79v-82v. 20. On the 29th of May 1396, the general administrators for the defence of Sardinia, Francesch Foix and Felip de Ferrera, entrusted Jordi de Planella with managing funds for the defence of the last surviving Catalan-Aragonese strongholds in the south of the island on the king’s orders. See ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484 (1396-1397), f. 1; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485 (1397-1398), f. 1r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486 (1398-1399), f. 1r. 21. Each recorded reebudes and dates is accompanied by a carta debitoria or anàpocha, autenticated by interested parties in the presence of a notary —always Guillelm Casanova who worked at the time in Castell de Càller.

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In particular, they allow for a reconstruction of the management of the castles which were still in Iberian hands and the financial costs involved in organising and defending them to the extent that the Catalan kings never gave up the idea of bringing the ’Sardinian question’ to a definitive close. Above all the expense items relating to the three fortresses subject to extraordinary intervention are listed in minute detail. Castell de Càller, the capital of the kingdom —in serious jeopardy despite its imposing walls and fortifications; San Michele— irreplaceable outpost in the direction of the Cagliari hinterland and the Campidani; Acquafredda, bulwark of the vast Sigerro curatoria on the border with the Sulcis-Iglesiente mining region. In particular, as far as this latter is concerned, the information contained in the batlle general documents provides abundant sources of useful material in tracing, however generally, the vicissitudes of this important fortress.

2. A Sardinian stronghold case study: Acquafredda

Acquafredda castle was built as a fortress in the Giudicato period, experienced in embryonic terms the socio-economic impulse of Pisan influence in the 13th and 14th centuries before going to the Tuscan Gherardesca family —the Donoratico counts— and then passing into the hands of Count Ugolino according to the most creditable accounts. The latter was the Ugolino who dominated the southernmost third of the former Cagliari giudicato with his brother Gherardo after the Pisan victory over the Genoese in 1258 and was imprisoned in the Torre della Fame by the Pisa comune before being placed by Dante in his innermost circles of hell.22 The functions of a fortress which was very probably built for the purposes of mining management were essentially military and it was lived in prevalently by the soldiers given the task of defending this vast area with its great many silver and lead mines. Equipped with an external ring of walls —nowadays mainly ruined— the castle itself consisted of two outlying and one central tower, the so-called mastio (keep) whose last-ditch defence it was designed for. Joined together by battlemented stone bridges, the towers were equipped with machicolations, crossbow loops and squared off battlements which defended several buildings for specific uses: lodgings, warehouses, sheds and, above all, the water cisterns.23

22. On Count Ugolino della Gherardesca, Count of Donoratico (Dante Alighieri, Divina Commedia, Inferno, c. XXXIII) and the members of his family involved in the Sardinian events, see Genealogie medioevali di Sardegna, Lindsay L. Brook, Francesco Cesare Casula, eds. Sassari: 2D Editrice Mediterranea, 1984: XI- XIII, 232-249; Toscanelli, Nello. I conti di Donoratico della Gherardesca, signori di Pisa. Pisa: Nistri-Lischi, 1937 e Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento. Iglesias dalle origini alla fine del Medioevo. Naples: Liguori, 1985. 23. Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua. Contributo alla storia delle fortificazioni in Sardegna”. Studi Sardi, 17 (1959-1961): 441-461; Coroneo, Roberto. Architettura Romenica dalla metà del Mille al primo ’300. Nuoro: Ilisso, 1993: 289 and the volume. Il castello di Acquafredda. Note di storia e archeologia, Donatella Salvi, Ilaria Garbi, ed. Settimo Milanese: RTP Castelli di Sardegna-Soprintendenza Archeologica per le provv. di Cagliari e Oristano, 2010: 18-36.

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After the Catalan-Aragonese conquest of the island, the fort passed directly under the control of the royal government as it was considered by Alfonso of Aragone to be a magnae fortitudinis.24 A castellan was appointed for this purpose and entrusted with the task of safeguarding the castle and the whole fortified settlement made up of a small network of neighbouring villages. Over time, this post became much sought after and extremely profitable as the appointment related to the command and defence of the fortress and control of the area around it. The duties of the castellan, in fact, included praeses functions in relation to the people resident in the castle and the hamlets both military or civilian and was he was responsible for managing an annual budget —the retinençia— which was to cover his own pay,25 ordinary building maintenance and supply costs, the salaries of a considerable number of mercenaries under his command and, lastly, the salaries of the guards —the servents— who ensured the defence of the fortress itself.26 From 1334 to 1360, a number of eminent, high status figures were appointed castellan such as Napoleó and James of Aragon, King John II’s illegitimate sons, Nicolau de Libiá and Amorós de Ribelles, both brothers of the realm’s governor general, Ramon d’Empuries, Alegrança’s husband and favourite nephew and heir of James of Aragon and Dalmazzo de Jardí, future vicar of Alghero and governor general of Capo di Logudoro.27 The war of liberation which the Giudicato of Arborea fought against Aragon, above all from the latter half of the 14th century onwards,28 obliged the latter to maintain its castles in a state of military preparedness and thus these only benefitted from feudal rights at the beginning of the period of domination and for a short time.29 The bloody wars which Sardinia was subject to from the early decades of the 15th century led to a necessary return to ancient and virtually exclusively military

24. Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda: appunti sulla vita quotidiana in una fortezza sarda nel Trecento”. Quaderni bolotanesi, 18 (1992): 265-299. 25. The castellan’s income was 5000 soldi on average with values extremes ranging from 2,000 to 16,000 soldi di alfonsini minuti. See ASCa. Procurazione Reale, B6, f. 51, f. 78v, f. 92r, f. 125r; and Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda...”: 272. 26. For the castellan’s duties, see Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 236-246; Olla Repetto, Gabriella. Gli ufficiali regi di Sardegna durante il regno di Alfonso IV. Cagliari: Fossataro, 1969: 44-45; Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 30, 41-42, 72-73. 27. Costa, Maria Mercè. “Oficials de la Corona d’Aragó a Sardenya (segle XIV). Notes biogràfiques”. Archivio Storico Sardo, 29 (1964): 325-327, 363-369, 373-377. Napoleó de Aragó, born of Gerolda, wife of aristocrat Gualtiero Campagna di Mileto and concubine of King John II (Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 366) was Jaume’s half-brother and like him illegitimate son of the King of Aragon and a certain Sicilian woman who later married Vanno de Bonavita. See Genealogie medioevali di Sardegna: XL, 456-457. Amorós de Ribelles was, on the other hand, a member of the Ramon de Ribelles family, trusted counsellor of Infante Alfonso and governor general of the Sardinian kingdom from 1337 onwards. Nicolau de Libiá was probably Pere’s brother and the latter was later governor general of the island (Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 284). 28. For a detailed account of events, see Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 365-412; Anatra, Bruno. “Dall’unificazione aragonese ai Savoia”,La Sardegna medioevale e moderna. Storia d’Italia. X, John Day, Bruno Anatra, Lucetta Scaraffia, eds. Turin: UTET, 1984: 189-663 (191-364). 29. Tangheroni, Marco. “Il ’Regnum Sardiniae et Corsicae’ nell’espansione mediterranea della Corona d’Aragona. Aspetti economici”, La Corona d’Aragona in Italia (secc. XIII-XVIII), XIV Congresso di Storia della

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roles for castles and annihilated any ambitions to make these a source of income or grants reducing them to harsh front line outposts which were frequently attacked, sieged and struggling for survival. Static war thus played a hugely important role as a military tactic in Sardinia not only during the conquest itself but above all in preserving the kingdom from the mid 14th to the early 15th centuries.30 In the absence of the resources required to maintain its overseas possession stably in the context of the financial difficulties it was experiencing, the Aragon monarchy was forced to resort to this type of conflict however difficult to manage and source of continual conflicts and contradictions.31 When hostilities with the Giudicato of Arborea ceased and the feudal rebellion led by the Marquises of Oristano at the end of the 15th century was crushed, the Aragon crown had no further need for these expensive fortified buildings. The great castle building period thus came to an end and almost all the Sardinian fortresses which had played such an important

Corona d’Aragona (Sassari-Alghero, 19-24 maggio 1990). Sassari: Carlo Delfino Editore, 1993: I, 49-88; Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 282-284. 30. The importance that this type of conflict has played in Sardinian history is the subject of a study by Maria Teresa Ferrer Mallol. Whilst designed to highlight the ’Catalan aspect’ of the issue her analysis is certainly the most extensive and best documented. 31. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. El patrimoni reial...: 351-491; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Organització i defensa d’un territori fronterer. La governació d’Oriola en el segle XIV. Barcelona: CSIC, 1990; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Barcelona i la politica mediterrània catalana: el Parlament de 1400-1401”, La Corona d’Aragona in Italia...: II/1, 427-443; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La guerra d’Arborea alla fine del XIV secolo”,Giudicato d’Arborea e Marchesato di Oristano: proiezioni mediterranee e aspetti di storia locale, 1° Convegno Internazionale di Studi (Oristano, 5-8 dicembre 1997), Gimpaolo Mele, coord. Oristano: ISTAR, 2000: 2/1, 535-620; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La organización militar de Cataluña en la Edad Media”, Conquistar y defender. Los recursos militares en la Edad Media hispánica, Miguel Ángel Ladero, coord. Revista de Historia Militar, 45 (2001): 119-222. Alongside Ferrer’s studies are those of: Sáiz, Jorge. Guerra y nobleza en la Corona de Aragón. La caballeria en los ejércitos del Rey (siglos XIV-XV). Valencia: Servei de Publicacions de la Universitat de València, 2003 and Sáiz, Jorge. “La organización militar en la expansión mediterránea de la Corona de Aragón, siglos XIV y XV”, La Mediterrània de la Corona d’Aragó, segles XIII-XVI & VII Centenari de la sentència arbitral de Torrellas, 1304-2004, Actes XVIII Congrés Internacional d’Història de la Corona d’Aragó (València, 9-14 setembre 2004). Valencia: Universitat de València, 2005: I, 737-764; Hernández, Francesc Xavier. Historia militar de Catalunya. Aproximació didáctica. Barcelona: Dalmau, 2004; Bertran, Prim. “La nobleza catalana y la guerra de Cerdeña de 1354. La expedición de 1354”. Hidalguía, 46/271 (1998): 737-755; Orsi, Mario. “Estrategia, operaciones y logística en un conflicto mediterráneo. La revuelta del juez de Arborea y la “armada e viatge” de Pedro el Ceremonioso a Cerdeña (1353-1354)”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 38/2 (2008): 921-968. Of fundamental importance to this research though referring to the Iberian area, see Cabanes, Maria Desamparados. “Los castillos de frontera en el reino de Valencia”. Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón, 10 (1975): 653-669; Martínez, Luis Pablo. “La historia militar del reino medieval de Valencia: balance y perspectivas”. Militaria. Revista de cultura militar, 11 (1998): 29-75; Sesma, José Ángel. “Guerra, ejército y sociedad en los reinos de Aragón y Navarra en la Edad Media”. Revista de Historia Militar, 1 (2002): 13-48; García, Juan Vicente. “El mantenimiento de los recintos fortificados en la Valencia bajomedieval. Las reparaciones del castillo de Xátiva (1410-1412)”. Acta historica et archaeologica Mediaevalia, 18 (1997): 475-493; García, Juan Vicente “Las obras que nunca se acaban. El mantenimiento de los castillos en la Valencia medieval: sus protagonistas e sus materiales”. Ars longa: cuadernos de arte, 12 (2003): 7-15; Mitre, Emilio; Alvira, Martín. “Ideología y guerra en los reinos de la España Medieval”, Conquistar y defender...: 291-334.

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part in the island’s political history were now function-less and began to fall into inexorable and irreversible wrack and ruin.32 With its key strategic position in the defensive system of the Regnum Sardinae, Acquafredda’s functions had always been strictly military in nature and this was all the more the case when Arborea declared war on Aragon. When war broke out after 1350, the stronghold managed to hold out against the multitude of attacks launched against it by the Arborea troops and, at the end of the 14th century, when events had turned to the favour of the Giudicato of Arborea, it once again played a key role in the reign’s southern fortifications when it succeeded in holding out against ongoing attacks by the soldiers of Brancaleone Doria, impatient to invade the Cagliari area and definitively occupyCastell de Càller.33 Reinforcing the fortress’s defences and satisfying its continual supply needs and uninterrupted maintenance and repair requirements was thus a pressing concern for the Aragonese kings from the latter half of the 14th century onwards. Repairs were extremely frequent in the castle’s long military history and the work carried out on it in the 14th and early 15th centuries cannot be listed here for reasons of space. It will suffice here to mention some of the many requests for action sent to the Court and underline the ability of the impregnable Sigerro fortress to resist. In 1351, for example, King Peter IV himself urged new and indispensable renovation work to improve the fortified complex while in 1358, it was the castellan Dalmazzo de Jardí who was granted payment for the expenses he had incurred in certain modernisation work which he had requested not only for the fortress but also for the village around it.34 From April 1365 when the wars with Arborea had flared up and conflict was imminent, measures were taken which were to impact on the southern regions of the kingdom. The governor general thus ordered that the Sigerro castle should be suitably modernised because the castellan’s reports had highlighted a serious food supply problem in the event of an attack as well as a lack of the tools, equipment and arms required to cope with siege and arm the war machines. In the months which followed, a resident of Castell de Càller, an expert in crossbows surveyed Acquafredda “pro recognoscendis, abtandis et reparandis ballistis dictorum castrorum et eorum viratonis impenandis”.35 The next year the fort resisted the attacks of the Giudicato troops and the soldiers stationed there pressed for continual repairs to its walls and buildings.36

32. Casula, Francesco Cesare. “Castelli e fortezze”, Atlante della Sardegna, Roberto Pracchi, Angela Terrosu Asole, Mario Giuseppe Riccardi, eds. Rome: Edizioni Kappa, 1980: II, 109-114 (table 40); Cioppi, Alessandra. “I sistemi di difesa nella Sardegna medioevale. Committenze e strategie”, Verso un atlante dei sistemi difensivi della Sardegna. Rome: Istituto Italiano dei Castelli, forthcoming. 33. Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 393 and 427. 34. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 328-329 and 350. 35. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, f. 73r. In August 1365, the crossbow archer Berenguer Almuzara visited Acquafredda and Gioiosaguardia castles to repair their crossbows and fletch their arrows. See ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, f. 82r. 36. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, ff. 101v-102r; ff. 107v-109r; ff. 130v-131r.

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It was, however, in the last decade of the 14th century that the situation became critical. Having left notions of great expeditions to one side —such proposals never left the drawing board— the Catalan-Aragonese defence of Sardinia was considerably down-sized and on occasions even precarious. It was a defence that, despite its limitations, managed to fulfil its main objective nonetheless— preserving the Iberian presence on the island. Whilst this presence was minimal and limited to control of a few inland castles and a number of strongholds on the coast it was still capable of ensuring Aragon the chance to recover whenever its domestic predicament might allow. From the 1470s onwards, the fortresses which the Regnum Sardinae still possessed were actually very few and encircled by hostile territory which left them totally isolated with consequent serious supply problems. Local revenues were nowhere near enough to pay for the keep of the soldiers manning the fortress and the revenues from the Iberian Peninsula fell short as a result of the many other ongoing disputes in the continent. Gathering the considerable funds needed to pay soldiers and Alcalde and maintain, modernise and supply castles was a not a straightforward matter. In 1396, for example, under pressing and continual threat of attack by Brancaleone Doria, work was done on the walls of Acquafredda castle37 and the water cistern there repaired in order to guarantee its long-term efficiency.38 This work was made possible by the work of a courier, Anthoni Darcedi, who transported the necessary material from Castell de Càller to the Sigerro castle. He was escorted by five men and Anthoni Scarcello, the owner of a boat in which the party managed to sail up River Cixerri from the Santa Igia lagoon to the marshy Uta area, as close as possible to the castle in order to avoid ambushes by bands loyal to the Doria family.39 In the first decade of the 15th century, on the other hand, when the war was petering out, wall repairs and carpentry work were needed. In the spring of 1407, castellan Bernat de Riera went to the extent of a “de gran adob” in the castle designed to make its rooms cosier and more comfortable, work that was much desired by his wife too.40 To this end, a certain Jacme de Riusech, an Alcúdia native living in Castell de Càller, worked for sixty-six days earning the sum of 12 lire and

37. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, ff. 130v-131r. 38. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 23-23v; Cioppi, Alessandra. “I registri di Jordi de Planella, ’batlle general’ di Sardegna. Note sull’amministrazione di un ufficiale regio alla fine del XIV secolo”, La corona catalanoaragonesa i el seu entorn mediterrani a la baixa edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Josefina Mutgé, Manuel Sánchez, eds. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas- Institució Milà i Fontanals, 2005: 23-63 (46-47). 39. This information comes to us via Jordi de Planella’s account books. For this expedition Anthoni Darcedi was paid 1 lira and 14 soldi and for their journey from Castell de Càller to Acquafredda, Anthoni Scarcello and his companions received 1 lira and 4 soldi. See ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 23r-23v. 40. The Acquafredda castellan’s wife, who lived in the castle alongside her husband in accordance with the provisions of Peter IV (Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 72-74), had very little in common with the ideal courtier model and resembled the female roles set out by Gabriella Olla Repetto to a much greater extent, Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “La donna cagliaritana tra ’400 e ’600’”. Medioevo. Saggi e Rassegne, 11 (1986): 171-207.

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12 soldi di alfonsini minuti. He was aided by an assistant who earned 6 lire and 10 soldi di alfonsini minuti for fifty-two days of work. This latter was also paid the sum of 15 soldi to transport just under three hundred terracotta tiles to be laid as floors in a number of rooms to the town in the castle. The ancient castle’s renovation was then probably completed with whitewashing, a sign of the renewed faith in it of the Catalan-Aragonese crown.41

3. How to defend and supply Acquafredda

The data to be found in the 14th-century archive documents on Acquafredda fort —including the information supplied by the batlle general’s account books— are almost exclusively administrative in nature and reflect only requirements relating to the castle’s functions and defensive potential. They are sectorial and indirect sources focusing mainly on soldiers rather than the men at arms and weaponry which were part of the fort’s forniment —and as such the crown’s property— as well as the small tools needed for repair, basic food supplies and warehouses to store them in. Despite this, from the starting point of the space calculations and descriptions of objects in the sources, life within a Catalan-Aragonese stronghold in 14th-century Sardinia can be inferred and retraced. At times in which the fortress was not directly involved in the war, we learn that the castellan’s family could live with him in the residence as required by his appointment. In such circumstances, a small retinue of servants suitable to his rank populated the castle, enlivening its spaces and alleviating an isolation that must have been suffocating at times. The Acquafredda castellans, in fact, frequently complained of the state of extreme segregation which the castle forced them to live in and some were prompted by a desire to escape continual residence there to give up the post. A case in point is Ramon de Ampuries, while his successor Dalmazzo de Jardí paid a very high price for his sense of duty to his appointed role. Appointed castellan in 1355, he accepted the post and, not wanting to separate himself from his loved ones, moved into the castle with both wife and children. Just three years later, in 1358, he asked for permission to leave a replacement at the fortress in order to stay in Castell de Càller for at least six months a year on the grounds that both he and his wife were seriously ill and two of their children had died as a result of the terrible sanitary conditions in the castle. King Peter IV granted the request of his faithful servant and allowed him to alleviate the harsh conditions of castle life with brief visits to town.42 Overall, however, Acquafredda castle must have been well organised and safe. Life there was perhaps not always pleasant but their military vocation did not stop

41. ASCa. Antico Archivo Regio K3, ff. 22r-22v; Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua...”: 446. 42. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 284-285; 350.

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its residents from engaging, however marginally, in activities which were mainly possible in the absence of specific military threats. The inhabitants of the fortress, in fact, engaged in hunting within its walls, carried out small maintenance tasks, cleaned and checked the weaponry, reorganised the warehouse and the tools. They stored away non-perishable material supplies.43 They made dough and baked bread. In this respect, an inventory of castle goods delivered to aristocrat Amorós de Ribelles, Acquafredda castellan in October 1338, shows that there were two mills inside the castle one of which was mule and the other horse-powered. A second inventory drawn up by castellan Ramon de Ampuries and passed on to his successor Dalmazzo de Jardí in July 1355 mentions a further two mills in the castle keep which were called “sardeschi” by the scribe.44 To these, two further grindstones were added only one of which was complete and in working order.45 A striking detail which emerges from these inventories is the diversity in mill types in the castle which was underlined by its castellans. The use of the ’sardesco’ adjective implies the existence of a specific machine that must have been very small as it was kept inside a single room in the castle. Perhaps this was an ancient wheat grindstone like those which had been in use on the island since Roman times, consisting of a few stone, donkey- powered elements of a type which has survived unchanged to our own times in the millstones visible in the courtyards of farm houses.46 When possible, the presence of the castellan’s wife certainly made life inside the castle more comfortable. Whilst she was capable of overseeing a range of tasks, her main duties were traditionally female ones. The various canes of canvas which reached Acquafredda, for example, had to be sewn and embroidered with the help of the village serventa to make napkins and simple garments as was customary in the European castles of the day.47 The castellan’s wife was also responsible for salting meat and fish and eels in particular.48 Her tasks included overseeing bread and biscuit making for the whole

43. ACA. Papeles para incorporar. Caja 24, ff. 1v-3r; ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 21v-22r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 29v-31r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 29-30r. 44. The descriptions of objects listed in the 1338 (ACA. Papeles para incorporar, n. 24, ff. 1v-3) and 1355 inventories (ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r) give an idea of the way Acquafredda castle was organised and the nature of its resident community subject to continual demands for work, renovation and defence. The text of the 1388 inventory is in Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda...”: 291-299; the text of 1355 is edited in Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua...”: 455-460. 45. ACA. Papeles para incorporar, caja 24 (1338, 15 ottobre), ff. 1r-6r; ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r. 46. This agricultural machinery has been studied and described by Fois, Barbara. Territorio e paesaggio agrario nella Sardegna medioevale. Pisa: ETS, 1990: 115-121. 47. ASCa. Antico Achivio Real, K3, ff. 22r-22v; ff. 25r-25v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2092, f. 124v; Power, Eileen. Donne nel Medioevo, Michael Moissey, ed., Sciana Loaldi Contri, trad. Milan: Jaca Book, 1999: 54-55; Duby, George; Perrot, Michélle. “Il modello cortese”, Storia delle donne. 2. Il Medioevo, Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, ed., Liliana Lanzarini, trad. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1990: 310-329. 48. Manca, Ciro. Aspetti dell’espansione economica catalano-aragonese nel Mediterraneo occidentale. Il commercio del sale. Milan: Giuffrè Editore, 1965: 33-46 (35).

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community. The wheat for the castle’s consumption was ground in the mills within the walls, which was then sifted with garbells and, lastly, large quantities of bread and biscuits were made with the help of all the servents and a few serventa. Other aspects of castle life are more difficult to establish. It is impossible to calculate the number of people whose lives revolved around the castle. We certainly know the size of the military garrison with considerable accuracy and the extent to which this varied over the months and we can also estimate the considerable number of men working in farming in the village and castle and the subsequent trading of its produce.49 When sieges or raids made regular supplies of fresh produce from the countryside impossible, the fortress was supplied every three/six months with the basic foodstuffs, arms and tools indispensable to daily life by means of routes designed to evade enemy ambushes. Water courses were frequently made use of as they could be navigated by small boats often right up to the base of the castle allowing food and weaponry supplies to be delivered and evading Arboria military surveillance.50 Such journeys were almost always accompanied by a military escort and carried out by means of horse-drawn carts led by carradors many of whom were native to Villanova and Stampace, used to ensuring transport links between Castell de Càller and its adjuncts and on exceptional occasions with the Cagliari hinterland as well.51 The performance of such duties and the costs involved were strictly regulated by town laws in the general interests of trade and the community.52 In our case, the batlle registers show that the preferred Acquafredda supply routes were rivers via small flat-keeled boats calledxius which were particularly suitable for this type of transport to inland castles or panescalm (penescalm), faster boats with many oars mostly used for goods and passenger transport.53 Food transport —much of which came from Catalonia— was organisationally demanding because the journey took nine days and was around 50 miles long.54 Such transport usually required a succession of intermediate stages. The goods were generally placed in sacks and barrels inside carts driven by carters. After crossing the Santa Gilla pond the route navigated River Cixerri to Sent Veneci before continuing briefly overland to Acquafredda castle escorted by a company of more

49. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 351-352; Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie...: 147-158. 50. Castellaccio, Angelo. “Utilizzazione militare di alcune acque interne nella Sardegna catalano- aragonese”, La Sardegna nel mondo mediterraneo. 6. Per una storia dell’acqua in Sardegna, Atti del terzo Convegno internazionale di studi geografico-storici (Sassari-Porto Cervo-Bono, 10-14 aprile 1985), Manlio Brigaglia, ed. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1990: 83-116. 51. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, f. 21r; reg. 2485, ff. 31r-31v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 30v-31r. 52. Pinna, Michele. “Le Ordinazioni dei Consiglieri del Castello di Cagliari del secolo XIV”. Archivio Storico Sardo, 17 (1929): 2-272; Manconi, Francesco. Libro delle ordinanze dei Consellers della Città di Cagliari (1346-1603). Sassari: Fondazione Banco di Sardegna, 2005. 53. Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. Corsari e pirati nei mari di Sardegna. Cagliari: Istituto sui rapporti italo- iberici-CNR, 1993: 112-116. 54. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30v.

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than one hundred soldiers.55 At the time, River Cixerri was full of water and easy to navigate above all in the final section. In the farmland around Uta, where River Manno also joined it, an extremely marshy area was created which was easy to cross in small boats suited to goods transport at lower cost and less risk of attack. As the journey to Sigerro fort was rather long, those involved in transporting and escorting the river journey had to be paid and supplied. In this case, the food for the journey consisted of several quintars of rusks kept in sacks and plenty of wine, vinegar and oil transported in barrels.56 Sometimes costs increased if it was felt necessary to send a number of spies ahead to check the route and report any dangers they found to the members of the party preparing to leave.57 The evidence of the account books on the considerable variety of foodstuffs supplied to Acquafredda castle shows the extent to which supplies to the castle were in line with the popular consumption habits of the day.58 The type of foods consumed did not, moreover, change over the course of the batlle general’s three years of extraordinary budget and neither did it differ significantly from that generally guaranteed as basic supplies to troops stationed in castles or fortified towns under siege. On the contrary, the supplies provided varied according to the availability of seasonal produce. Wheat, rice, barley, candi sugar, legumes and cheese, salt, vinegar, oil and garlic, salted pork and fish, above all eels, honey, dried fruit and nuts and wine —all this made up basic provisions which were never to be absent.59 Wine was always Sent Onoxet (Anuxet), a good quality Calabrian wine from San Lucido supplied in both blanch and vermell, much appreciated and long-lasting.60

55. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 31v. Sent Veneci, also called Santu Venuci or Santu Inesu (San Genesio) was a village in the farmland around Uta, now no longer extant. See Asole Terrosu, Angela. “L’insediamento umano medioevale e i centri abbandonati fra il secolo XIV e il secolo XVII”, Atlante della Sardegna, Roberto Pracchi, Angela Terrosu, eds. Rome: Edizioni Kappa, 1974: 23 (a supplement of fascicle II). On the subject of the ancient settlement pattern in Sigerro and studies of the positions of abandoned villages, see La curadoria del Sigerro. Vicende attorno al castello di Acquafredda, ed. Giovanni Serreli, Simonetta Sitzia, Stefano Castello, Biblioteca Comunale di Siliqua. 10th April 2014 . 56. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30v. 57. Cioppi, Alessandra. “I registri...”: 43-60. 58. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. “La alimentación en la España medieval, estado de las investigaciones”. Hispania, 45 (1985): 211-220; García, Juan Vicente. “La alimentación en el Medievalismo Valenciano. Un tema marginado”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia medieval, 8 (1990-1991): 301-322; i contributi del volume miscellaneo Alimentació i societat a la Catalunya medieval. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas-Institució Milà i Fontanals, 1988); Montanari, Massimo.L’alimentazione contadina nell’alto Medioevo. Naples: Liguori Editore, 1979; Montanari, Massimo. Alimentazione e cultura nel medioevo. Milano: Laterza, 1988; Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti di Miquel Ça-Rovira. Padua: CEDAM, 1969: 123-130. 59. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 21v-22r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 29v-31; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 29r-30r; ACA. Papeles para incorporar, no. 24, ff. 1v-3r; ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67. 60. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, f. 21v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, f. 29; ACA. Real Patrimonio.

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The volume of spare food, on the other hand, varied from year to year in accordance with supply difficulties and thus at certain times of year it could be subsistence only, a reflection of economic crisis resulting from war, epidemic and depopulation. The expenses incurred by the batlle in paying for the produce sent to Acquafredda fitted in perfectly with the market fluctuations and financial considerations of those years.61 Supplying of the Sigerro fortress also involved a significant quantity of small tools and various commonly used everyday materials which were not available at the fort itself. Sacks, skins, leather, thread and wax were used for relatively uncomplicated repairs while pickaxes, sickles, hatchets, double-bladed axes, bill hooks, wrenches and nails in large quantities were useful for every type of work.62 Lastly, various types of water containers, wooden bowls for drinking and plates to eat on were also listed63 as were an additional grindstone for milling wheat,64 sieves to sift the flour,65 a pestle for further grinding the flour and apastera to use for mixing the dough.66 Interesting, in the context of these supplies, is the presence of a tablecloth for the dining room and a caldera. The latter was the classic copper, semi spherical recipient used to boil water or to cook meat in large quantities.67

Maestro Racional, reg. 2092, ff. 93r-96v; ff. 124r-127r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2093, f. 45r. 61. Almost all agricultural and animal husbandry products were affected by the production and distribution crisis caused by continual warfare. See Manca, Ciro. “Notes sobre l’administració de la Sardenya catalana en el segle XIV: l’arrendament de les rendes e drets reyals”. Estudis d’Història Medieval, 5 (1973): 73-74. On the Cagliari marketplaces, consequently, the prices of other food products such as barley, broad beans, cheese, salted meat and olive oil rose at the same rates as wheat. Red wine and vinegar prices, of which supplies were satisfactorily ongoing with limited variations thanks to imports from Calabria —the well-known red and white wines from San Lucido— and Sicily, were otherwise regulated. Sicilia. Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti...: table 32, 121 and Pinna, Michele. Le Ordinazioni dei Consiglieri...: I, chap. 31-32, 24-25; 66, pp. 38-39; II, chap. 27, pp. 108-110; chap. 28, pp. 110-112. 62. The work tools cited in the register comprise both individual tools and those commonly used on building sites and the related costs-both relative and absolute-were certainly modest. On this subject, see Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti...: 76. 63. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30r e v. Gavetes were water containers while vernigats were bowls. See “gaveta”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català- valencià-balear, Palma de Mallorca: Editorial Moll, 1985: VI, 241 (10 vols.) and “vernigat”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català, valencià, balear...: X, 747. 64. This was the sardesco type grindstone discussed earlier used to grind wheat supplies inside the castle. See note 45. 65. The sieve used was called a garbell. It was essentially a container with a perforated leather base used to separate the wheat from the chaff by beating the wheat with a stick. See ”garbell”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català-valencià-balear...: VI, 183. 66. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 30-30v. A pastera was a sort of small wooden chest on which bread was worked (see “pastera”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja, Diccionari català-valencià-balear...: VIII, 312-313). 67. In our case, the caldera weighed 7 pounds (2.8 kg.). See ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, f. 30 and “caldera”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja, Diccionari català-valencià- balear...: II, 849-850.

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Lastly, abundant supplies of weaponry to the castle were made up of daggers, crossbows and crates full of passadors.68

4. Conclusions

The evidence contained in the batlle general registers confirms the challenging nature of the task of supplying and defending surviving Catalan-Aragonese strongholds at the turn of the 14th century but also shows just how indispensable and strategically important this was to the very survival of the Regnum Sardiniae. The latter was chosen as a field of study in the light of the Sardinianbatlle general administration documents but also of the large quantity of sources allowing for an adequate assessment of the state of static war as Catalan-Aragonese logistical- military status quo for the whole century of war of conquest and preservation of the island kingdom (1323-1420). It also confirms that this was a defensive instrument whose value was comparable to the battlefields themselves or to corsair warfare. An analytical study of the data in the batlle general account books also allowed for a reconstruction of static war organisation and the techniques used in the Sardinian kingdom. The administrative management of the capital invested in it and its investors were also analysed and, lastly, the impact of this strategy on the island’s military vicissitudes was also assessed. Certainly some of Sardinia’s fortresses played a front rank role historically and once they were no longer needed these passed from centrestage to complete neglect. This was the fate of Acquafredda castle too. In peacetime, its vassals preferred the comfort of the towns to the harsh and solitary life of the fortress. High maintenance costs were a serious matter and these, together with the castles’ isolated and inaccessible positions, led to their inexorable abandonment leaving them to fall into rack and ruin.

68. Passadors were crossbow arrows which Dimitre Virater had bought in Barcelona for 9 lire per thousand arrows costing a total of 23 lire and 18 soldi di alfonsini minuti. 15 crates of passadors arrived in Sardinia on Francesch Solanis’s ship, which docked at Castell de Càller with all the crown’s supplies for its Regnum Sardiniae. On medieval weaponry, see Contamine, Philippe. La guerra nel Medioevo, Tuckery Capra, trad. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1986: 247-252; and for Spain: Riquer, Martín de. L’arnès del cavaller. Armes y armadures catalanes medievales. Barcelona: Edicions Ariel, 1968; Cirlot, Victoria. El armamento catalán de los siglos XI al XIV. Barcelona: Universidad de Barcelona (PhD Dissertation), 1980: 266-401 (directed by Martí de Riquer) and precious arms reproductions.

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III PART THE PAST EXplained AND recreated

Medieval Soundspace in the New Digital Leisure Time Media

Juan Francisco Jiménez Alcázar and Gerardo Rodríguez Universidad de Murcia Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata and Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones científicas y técnicas Spain - Argentina

Date of receipt: 31st of December, 2013 Final date of acceptance: 10th of September, 2014

Abstract

Videogames have become a very important cultural reference in our society, especially for the younger generation. The music, sound effects and noises that appear in them are examples of the general iconography we have of the past, in this case the medieval period. This study presents an approach to this phenomenon that represents one of the best examples to analyse the idea of what we think the Middle Ages was like, and, in particular, its soundscape.

Keywords

Videogames, Middle Ages, soundscape, New Information and Communications Technology (NICT).

Capitalia Verba

Videoludi, Medium Aevum, Locus Sonorus, novae Informationis Communicationum Technologiae.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 307-327 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.14 307 308 Juan Francisco Jiménez and Gerardo Rodríguez

1. Definition of Soundscape1

The term soundscape was coined by the Canadian composer and researcher Raymond Murray Schafer2 to refer to the study of the natural milieu of a real place, comprising the analysis of all the sounds originated by the forces of nature, animals and human beings, as the latter are closely envisaged through the individual and its cultural environment. Soundscapes are, therefore, in continuous evolution and follow the changes in the environment. That is why we can claim that they possess historicity, since they go hand in hand with the transformation of a social group. Any registration of a soundscape (a written description, a pictorial or sculptural representation, a recording) can be considered as a sound historical document, insofar as its temporal characteristics are demarcated. Referring to these registrations —this registered sound documentation— Jordi Pigem proposes that we should escuchar las voces del mundo, dado que hemos creído que él era sordo y mudo.3 Therefore, we intend to analyse the paradigms of those sounds in order to outline the perception we have today of what might have been then, of how that auditory context we are referring to was perceived. There is not a technology to retrieve those testimonies or a system for us to be able to hear them. That is why, since there are no records, the reflections we deal with in this paper are aimed at hypotheses tackling what is the truthfulness of the collective sound image we keep of the Middle Ages; and ultimately what we consider to be Medieval music or sounds, as it is clear that, if we refer to Medieval music, a great part of the population could respond identifying a certain piece of melody or noise with a typically Medieval context.4 This question, analysed in its more global aspect from the peculiarity of the videogame framework, is the priority objective in this article. One of the current challenges consists of delimiting and analysing the sound environment of the different Medieval milieus. For example, the inhabitants of a

1. This work is framed in the research project: Historia y videojuegos. El impacto de los nuevos medios de ocio en el conocimiento del pasado medieval (HAR2011-25548), funded by the Ministry of Economy and Competitiveness of the Government of Spain, and in that of Paisajes sensoriales, sonidos y silencios de la Edad Media (HUM 396/12, cód. 15/F-456), funded by the Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata (Argentina). 2. Schafer, Raymond M. The Tuning of the World. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1977. 3. “Listen to the voices from the world, as we have thought that it was deaf and mute” (Jordi Pigem. “Escuchar las voces del mundo”, Observatori del Paisatge. Dossier “Paisajes sonoros”, 2009. 1st June 2014 ). 4. There is a huge quantity of literature on Medieval music, from specific monographies (Hoppin, Richard H. La música medieval. Madrid: Akal, 1991; Caldwell, John. La música medieval. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1991). To recent specific studies on any precise topic: Tello, Arturo. “Sobre el amor y el fervor. Música, piedad y corte en los reinos hispanos medievales”. Anales de Historia del Arte, 23 (2013): 369- 386; Mussons, Anna Maria. “Antes y después de Muret: cantos y silencios”. La encrucijada de Muret. ¿Una nueva definición para Europa y el Mediterráneo?. Madrid: Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales, 2014: 94-136. Nonetheless, we would like to refer particularly to the very interesting contribution by Clara Cortázar: Cortázar, Clara. “La música medieval. Iniciadora de la música moderna”. Teología, 72 (1998): 30-45, because of the simplicity of her explanation as well as because it is quite advisable as an introduction to this topic.

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Lower Middle Ages Castilian town must have known the sounds they heard and produced. And by sound we understand from proper music to any kind of noise. Every street, neighborhood and town must have had its own sonority, which would change at every minute. These sounds represent a space full of activity and movement: in the same way as the sounds of nature inform of the phenomena occurring in it, those produced by people inform of their presence and their corresponding activities. The sound manifestations of a human group are more the echo of a social experience than a musical activity in itself. We are focusing our attention on that sound icon, as an image is, along with a sound, the most representative aspect of what a memory stands for. The image configures the memory, in its more general sense, as a feeling which has been perceived —a particular or collective profile. It is connected with Clara Cortázar’s assertion: Querámoslo o no, somos medievales en nuestra música como lo somos en nuestras lenguas.5 We rule out the strictly musical videogames with which people can interpret or accompany specific pieces of music or singing6, as is the case of Wii Music, Guitar Hero, Sing Star, and those specific for dancing, like the variousJust Dance (Ubisoft) and Dance Central (Harmonix). It is not the objective of this paper to mention any manifestation of music or sound on videogames but (let us insist) the sensorial reflection the user perceives while they are utilising and playing with titles linked to scripts relating to Medieval times, whether they are historical or legendary.

2. Definition and Scope of Historical Videogames

A videogame is a kind of electronic entertainment which is configured through computer programs which have a multimedia application. Wikipedia defines a videogame like this: an electronic game that involves human interaction with a user interface to generate visual feedback on a video device.7 We prefer this definition rather than that offered by the Real Academia de la Lengua Española, which is less updated.8 In both cases the scope of the medium is limited to the technical field, as it is an accepted cultural device.9 But one of the basic elements which confer a videogame

5. “Whether we like it or not, we are Medieval in our music in the same way as we are that in our languages”. Also: Cortázar, Clara. “La música medieval...”: 43. 6. About this group, the following Wikipeda page is recomendable: “Music videogame”. Wikipedia. 1st June 2014. . 7. “Videojuego”. Wikipedia. 1st June 2014. . 8. Videojuego: “Dispositivo electrónico que permite, mediante mandos apropiados, simular juegos en las pantallas de un televisor o de un ordenador” (An electronic dispositive which allows through appropriate controls to simulate games on the screens of a TV or computer). Real Academia Española de la Lengua. “Videojuego”. 1st June 2014. . 9. Aranda, Daniel; Sánchez, Jordi. “Algunas claves para entender los videojuegos”, Aprovecha el tiempo y juega. Algunas claves para entender los videojuegos, Daniel Aranda, Jordi Sánchez, eds. Barcelona: Universitat Oberta de Catalunya, 2009: 8. On the first pages of Pilar Lacasa’s book we find an interesting contrastive table on the various interpretations of what a videogame is according to different authors, taking as a

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the character of a complete and full cultural product never comes up, since if the image is prioritised, the sound becomes a key substrate to achieve the formal objective of the medium. As it combines the multiplication of sensorial stimuli with the user’s active participation, it is rather considered as an interactive multimedia product. Starting from there, the communication is established through the various visual and sound devices which, working mainly in an integrated way, stimulate multisensory perception and the continuous dialogue between the individual and the operative system or between individuals through technological media, which in this case are digital ones. On other occasions10 our intention has been to highlight the playful function of video games in the framework of the historical discipline, and we have considered it possible to adapt them as an educational resource, particularly those which have a historical content and script considering their distinctive features, which are related to the treatment of time and the reconstructions of the period. Let us remember that in this kind of games the following features are basic: -- The treatment of the time factor. -- The stories which intertwine in videogames, between each other and with lived experiences and general experiences, personal stories, etc. -- The relationships between story, legend, truthfulness and verisimilitude. -- Iconography as the base for historical communication. In the latest videogame developments, the historicity of many of their components has been one of their outstanding characteristics, both in what refers to the reconstruction of cities and combats, weapons and clothes. All this process has been improved by the spectacular progress of digital technology. Meaningful advances have been achieved in accuracy and details, and by doing so settings are more real to accomplish a more and more perfect simulation effect. The visual interface is shown as something specific which seeks to trap the user in such a way reference the words by Huizinga (Homo ludens) about what a game is in itself. Lacasa, Pilar. Los videojuegos. Aprender en mundos reales y virtuales. Madrid: Morata, 2011: 20-25. 10. Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “Videogames and Middle Ages”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 3 (2009): 311-365; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “El reto de las tecnologías de la información y comunicación en Humanidades. Medievalismo, medievalistas y el ordenador”, El estudiante en el sistema ECTS. Innovaciones docentes para clases teóricas y prácticas. Granada: Ed. Copicentro, 2010: 95-112; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “Cruzadas, cruzados y videojuegos”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia Medieval, 17 (2011): 363- 407; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “El otro pasado posible: la simulación del Medievo en los videojuegos”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 5 (2011): 491-517; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “El arte de la guerra medieval: combates digitales y experiencias de juego”. Revista Eletrônica sobre Antiguidade e Medievo Roda da Fortuna, 1/1 (2014): 516-546. Jiménez, Juan Francisco; Rodríguez, Gerardo F. “La visión del musulmán en los videojuegos de contenido histórico”, IX Estudios de Frontera. Economía, Derecho y sociedad en la Frontera. Jaen: Diputación Provincial, 2014: 317-336; Jiménez, Juan Francisco; Rodríguez, Gerardo Fabián “Sexualidades jugadas. El sexo en los videojuegos históricos”, I Jornadas Interdisciplinarias sobre Estudios de Género y Estudios Visuales. (Mar del Plata: Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata, 2014). Historia y videojuegos. El impacto de los nuevos medios de ocio sobre el conocimiento del pasado medieval. 1st June 2014 ; Jiménez, Juan Francisco; Mugueta, Iñigo. “Estudiar la Edad Media desde el presente: un taller didáctico en aulas de ESO con videojuegos”, Actas del II Congreso Internacional de Videojuegos y Educación, Francisco Revuelta, María Rosa Fernández, María Inmaculada Pedrera, Jesús Valverde, coords. Caceres: Universidad de Extremadura, 2014: 273-276.

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that his or her experience throughout the game is the aim of the product itself. Melodies have also advanced in a parallel sense but rather towards a degree of musical and technical quality. The soundscape which goes together with these videogames has not progressed, though, in the same historicist direction; rather, it offers a reconstruction which is along the line of the game interests and of what the designer would like to use, which many times depends on what the designer imagines the player desires to hear and not on historical recreation. In a lecture given by the developer of the Noguera Games11 during the Murcia Game Party (April 2014)12, he showed a game which was in the initial designing phase, Quest, whose plot had a “Medieval setting” (sic); when asked what kind of music would be used in the game finally, he responded by saying that it would be “Medieval” music. All the presents heard the assertion with perfect comprehension, as they understood what the expression “Medieval music” meant. Quite a different thing is what it really is. In this paper we intend to go deep into this topic and some others.

3. Music and Sounds

Edgardo Rudnitzky13 claims that we can stop seeing when we stop looking but we cannot stop listening when we stop hearing, since there are no lids for ears in the same way as we have lids for our eyes. In this sense, sound turns out to be ubiquitous —it is always around us, it is never a private affair. It has only one point of origin but multiple points of listening— receivers. Sound is in the space, allows us to perceive that area totally no matter where we are looking. It is the medium through which we understand oral language and perceive music. Sound is presence and is ambivalent in the sense that it has an immense referential capacity towards topics which are alien to it when it is a sign or language, and the quality of being absolute abstraction when it is pure sound with no linguistic significant —a stimulus in itself. These assertions, which may seem metatheoretical in their approach, are really an intrinsic part of the success of the videogame product. We could argue that we can play without sounds or music. That is true, but the complete experience of the game —that experience which is the definition of the medium— is obliterated. In fact, there are already melodies which are identified with some titles. Let us remember justMy Patch, by Jim Noir, for Little

11. Bad Juju Games, Inc.-Noguera Juegos. Desura. 13rd January 2015. . 12. Game Party Entertainment. Murcia Game Party. 13rd June 2014. . 13. Edgardo Rudnitzky (1956) is an Argentinian composer and sound artist whose work has been linked to contemporary music and whose sound has been associated to performance practices. He lives in Berlin and in the years 2012-2013 he presented Nocturno. Instalación sonora para 15 monocordios in Fundación Proa. His thought was registered in Ezequiel Alemián’s interview in: “No hay párpados para los oídos”. Ñ. Revista de Cultura, 497 (06/04/2013): 36.

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Big Planet (Media Molecule-Sony, 2008), and soundtracks are even published for their marketing— that is the case of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (Activision, 2010) or Medal of Honor (several titles of the saga, released by EA Recordings), or inserted as a supplement in editions for collectors: let us quote the following examples: Total War, Anno 1404, Age of Empires, The Children of the Nile and The Sims Medieval —illustration 1—. A collection of soundtracks for videogames interpreted by the London Philarmonic Orchestra came out onto the market a few months ago.14

Illustration 1: Cover of the original soundtrack of The Sims Medieval, insert in the collector’s edition.

That is why developing companies invest higher and higher quantities in soundtracks of those titles we can describe as superproductions. It is no wonder that great masters, very well-known composers of film soundtracks, get involved in products specific for videogames. Hans Zimmer is a good example; he is the author of the melodies to Rain man (Barry Levinson, 1988), Driving Miss Daisy (Bruce Beresford, 1989), Thelma and Louise (Ridley Scott, 1991), The Lion King (Rob Minkoff- Roger Allers, 1994), Crimson Tide (Tony Scott, 1995), The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998), Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000), Black Hawk Down (also by Ridley Scott, 2001), Pearl Harbor (Michael Bay, 2001), The Last Samurai (Edward Zwick, 2003),

14. London Philharmonic Orchestra. The Greatest videogames music. New York: X5 Music, 2011.

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The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008), Inception (also by Christopher Nolan, 2010), 12 Years a Slave (Steve McQueen, 2013) and the series The Pacific (HBO).15 The renown German musician can also add to his CV the soundtrack of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (Activision, 2010)16, and Crysis 2 (EA, 2011). Steve Jablonsky is not less known; he is the composer of the music to Gears of War 2 (Epic Games, 2008) and The Sims 3 (EA, 2009), but he has also reflected his creativity in films like Transformers (Paramount Pictures, 2007) and Ender’s Game (Chartoff Productions and others, 2013). Once we have settled that the sound factor in videogames is essential, we have come to the point of asking about the way it shows in the medium and whether it is possible to recognise and differentiate music and melody in a videogame. For Josep Martí Pérez17 the question of the meaning in music goes beyond a purely denotative stage of musical concepts; it has to do with the ideas external to the musical code agreed to it by society. Since these associations have been closely related to the systems of beliefs and values in a certain sociocultural area, they have incorporated selective criteria establishing an identity link between music and a social order cognitive category. Needless to say that this proposition suggests that the meaningful contents of music arise from the relationship between the inner structure of music itself and an outer concept based on social experiences. Some examples quoted by the Catalan author are the associations of the Gregorian chant with religion (particularly with the ); of rock and heavy music with youth, innovation, rebellion, nonconformity, and independence; of opera, and classical music in general, with the intellectual and economic elite. In this sense, the use of a specific sound that the player would like to listen to while playing depends on what the developer uses in order to fully meet the user’s demand, and also in order to get a harmonic product which reaches a minimum standard indispensable to be successful on the market. Nonetheless, there are certain factors which resort to plot links when using specific kinds of music. This is the case of the Overture in the Halo videogame (Bungie Studios and Gearbox Software), a composition which can be fully described as coral Gregorian chant because of its connection with the main character, the Masterchief, the 117 Warrior (St. John, Apocalypse, 1: 17). The narrative in the videogame setting is not exclusive of the imagery and the written

15. On occasion associated to composer Nick Glennie-Smith (We Were Soldiers, Paramount Pictures, 2002), he worked under the shelter of the Media Ventures Company, which derived into Remote Control Productions. The best known product of that collaboration was the soundtrack to The Rock (Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer Films, 1996). 16. About that there is an article by Raúl Álvarez. “Bandas sonoras de tus videojuegos: el estruendo de Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2”. Xombit Games. 1st June 2014. . 17. Martí, Josep. “La idea de ’relevancia social’ aplicada al estudio del fenómeno musical”. Trans: Revista Transcultural de Música, 1 (1995). As the author does not clarify what he means by “categorías cognitivas”, we understand that they are general concepts which are established starting from man’s rational knowledge of reality. 1 June 2014. .

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script; its music becomes, thus, the inseparable companion of the player’s experience of the game. Let us now retake the topic of the musical meaning. Steven Feld18 suggests that the musical object, understood as a symbolic entity, contains interpretive tensions which can only be solved when auditory impressions are transformed into concepts. In order to achieve that, the author considers social experience, rather than psychological factors, as estructuras que amoldan lass ensaciones perceptivas en realidades conceptuales19 whether they are musical or non musical; he refers, thus, to the outlines of classification shared socially, through which the apprehension of symbols is carried out. To sum up, what Feld suggests is that the communicative process of meaning and of the musical interpretation takes as its bases, on the one hand, the dialectics of the sound object/ event as the concurrence of a musical (structure) or non musical (its placement in historical time and space) reality; and, on the other hand, the interpretive moves which, through their variants of placement, categorisation, association, reflection and evaluation, transform auditory experience into a practice based on the selection and juxtaposition of deep and shallow knowledge. The author explains that, rather than fixing meanings, these movements seek to focusfrontiers of meaning in the adjustments and changes of attention patterns at the time of any auditory experience. Feld calls this procedure framing, and simultaneously involves the understanding of general and specific aspects, as well as forms and references. In this way, what the author intends to emphasise is the fact that the significant characteristics of musical communication are not those untransferable or irreducible to the verbal mood, but rather those whose generality or multiplicity in their possible messages and interpretations provoke a special type of affective activity and an involvement on the part of the listener. Let us keep this latter factor, involvement, since the music and the global sound in a videogame just seek to generate a setting, a context with a particular or shared experience which identifies the user with the thing he or she is playing with, whether it is a trench in the I World War, like, for example, in the Verdun videogame, or the battle of Muret, in Medieval Warfare (1c Company-FX). Generally developers use specific sounds to make the player orientate him or herself, since one of the objectives in the game is to make the setting look verisimilar. Even with respect to apocalyptic contexts with certain titles, like Fallout 3 (Bethesda Game Studios), the sense of the music that can be heard (and purchased as an album from iTunes), takes us back to the 50’s of the 20th century (Roy Brown, Billie Holiday, Billy Munn, Cole Porter...), as the script specifies that, after the nuclear catastrophe occurred in the future, the cultural progress of western civilization had come to a standstill. And here it is where, besides the melody, the element special sounds, or noises, is basic to get the gamer’s involvement or the increase on the simulated sensation as an experience of the game. If a sword is being brandished, one might expect to hear its strident metallic sound when hitting another metal object or its hissing cut in the air.

18. Steven, Feld. “Communication, music, and speech about Music”. Yearbook for Traditional Music, 16 (1984): 303-317. 19. “Structures which shape perceptive sensations into conceptual realities”.

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A parallel topic in the framework of what can be heard on a videogame is voices. In the case of the aforementioned Fallout 3 we can hear Liam Neeson, in its original version, dubbing the father of the main character; Ron Perlman as the narrator of the plot; and Malcolm MacDowell as the chairman of the Enclave. This case serves us to refer to the importance of dubbing in videogames; something that adds, no doubt, to the player’s involvement in the inner setting of the game. Hearing Ramón Langa’s voice in The Abbey (Alcachofa Soft), a game inspired in The Name of the Rose, contributes to associate its plot with its narrative quality. It is a sort of permanent feedback between the cinema and videogames which was already taken for granted since the great studios absorbed or promoted companies dealing with the development of digital leisure time —a process which started in 1976 after Atari was absorbed by Warner Bros and whose latest case could be Lucas Arts, absorbed by Disney.20 There are no extant sounds from the Middle Ages. Therefore, there is nothing better than a deep voice, particularly if it is easily recognisable, to position the player’s mind in the context he or she wants to re-create or at least simulate.

3.1. Music

By definition, videogame music is any kind of music that appears in it; mainly background music and some sound effects. In its origins it used to have a style of its own, characterised by the abundance of loops and a simple melody, which was executed with synthesised sounds. At present the border between videogame music and film music is rather diffuse due to the fact that both media interact each other and there is continuous communication between them, as they have a two-way character. According to Francisco Javier Pérez Quevedo21, videogame music must enrich the player’s experience —it must be adaptable, dynamic, informative and immersive. It must: 1. Accompany the player throughout the game; that is why it is usually instrumental music. 2. Create a setting, favouring entertainment and the immersion in the world of the game. 3. Create uneasiness, tension and expectations. 4. Position the player inside the action, generating different climaxes. 5. Help to reach the end allowing the player to relax once he or she has reached the final objective.

20. Levis, Diego. Los videojuegos, un fenómeno de masas. Qué impacto produce sobre la infancia y la juventud la industria más próspera del sistema audiovisual. Barcelona: Paidós, 1997: 101 and following. 21. The assessement by Francisco Javier Pérez Quevedo was made during the course “Animación y videojuegos” directed by Alberto Prieto and José Luis Bernier, Centro Mediterráneo de la Universidad de Granada, Granada, 23 to 27 July, 2012. 1 June 2014 .

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In this sense, and for the objective we have set ourselves, the second factor is particularly important, since the use of a specific melody which brings before the user’s eyes a specific setting developed in aMedieval context becomes one of the crucial elements in the development of the game. But not in the final stage, when the experience of the game is already manifest, but at the initial moments, when the designer is thinking of creating a setting for the videogame employing all the resources he or she can get hold of. If infography and rendering, and, in general, all the graphic apparatus used, are configured as clear visual characteristics —we need only to know the great economic effort of Ubisoft to digitally recreate the Great Bazaar of Constatinople in Assassin’s Creed. Revelations (Ubisoft, 2011, illustration 2)—, the music is what, not leaving us for a minute, positions us in a specific special context.

Illustration 2: Scene in the Great Bazaar of Constatinople. Assassin’s Creed. Revelations.

Manuel Gértrudix Barrio22 thinks that music is a dramatic narrative resource because of the plasticity of its language, the versatility of its resources and the potential of its discourse, which make it an essential component in the audiovisual

22. Gértrudix, Manuel. Música y narración en los medios audiovisuales. Madrid: Laberinto, 2003; Gértrudix, Manuel. “La música en el relato audiovisual y multimedia: aplicaciones y funciones narrativas”, Narrativa audiovisual: televisiva, fílmica, radiofónica, hipermedia y publicitaria, Francisco García, ed. Madrid: Laberinto, 2006: 209-224.

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story. He has discovered different functions in videogame music, which he classifies like this: -- Narrative functions, linked to the characters: 1. referentiality, 2. characterisation, 3. focalisation. -- Functions relating to the action: 1. comments, 2. underlining, 3. setting, 4. specification. -- Functions relating to time, whether they refer to the essence of time or are used to introduce nuances:1. transitive: it unites the different points on the time line, 2. Constitutive: it enhances imagery, 3. Indicative: it expresses argumental values, 4. Topographic: it expresses the face value of time, 5. Hagiographic: it influences the reading time. -- Functions relating to space: the videogame music modulates and shapes space, as it replaces real sound. So the function can be: 1. focusing, 2. pragmatic, 3. formant, 4. expressive/ emotive. From the various perspectives mentioned, the music used in videogames which have historical contents, and more precisely in those with a Medieval setting, whether those with a more historicist outline or those that reflect oneiric worlds —WoW, the saga The Elder Scrolls...— or myths —The Lord of the Rings: The War in the North; Beowulf; King Arthur...—, aims to bring before the user’s eyes a quite recognisable sensorial context, not seeking to be surprising or to reflect historical accuracy. What the gamer expects to hear is what is employed —something that sounds Medieval above any other melody that might suit better to that kind of game. There are certainly specific cases of identity soundtracks for games, and probably Zelda is the best known. But in order to achieve that (i.e. in order to be able to distinguish a kind of music with nuances that is, made up of non-metallic notes characteristic of the early videogames) technology has needed to take a spectacular jump over the last few years. At present, every sound of a product is usually a fundamental part of the design of the videogame itself, as the hardware can already cope with that. Just one example: usually on videogames there is an option to adjust the volume of the music as well as the sound effects. The consequence of this is that the experience of the game is more personal, as the player chooses the preferences of where and when to play. In effect, the development of videogame music is closely related to technological progress. The changes that occurred between 1970 and 2010 can be summarised like this: 1. Technology: there was a progress from single-channel sound to involving sound 2. Musical techniques: from monodic loops to great orchestras. 3. Musical styles: from adapted songs to soundtracks. 4. Functionality: from extradiegesis or metadiegesis to narrative diegesis. At the end of the 1990s and going parallel to technological developments, music gained an importance which was at the same level as images. Hence the importance of music, which acquired cinematographic characteristics, and the marketing of soundtracks, as suggested before. It is this point which we must insist

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on. The limitations this medium had took a qualitative jump as pre-recorded music could be used on the media (CDsmainly)23, and it was at this point where the potential we are referring to originated. It is true that the progress was gradual, but without a pause. And it was altered only by precise jumps like the undertaking of the standard. MOD on the heels of the use of Sound Tracker, a free software, in 1987. We must certainly specify the crucial importance, for this matter as well as for the graphic aspect, implied in the technological media and their corresponding progress. The various kinds of sequenced music and sampled sounds had a parallel reflection in the restrictions of the prices of the machines people played on and even in the reproduction system used, like NTSC or PAL. We have already insisted upon the deep change occurred when the CD became popular as a medium, as it enabled people to hear, on any hardware, voices, sounds and music which were not distorted. There were also technological advances on that physical element, to the point that some specific chips managed the tracks that were played. In effect, their job was exclusively to decompress music files (let us read that like this: specific sound cards or those linked to matrix plaques). Nevertheless all this framework of mixes and uses of sounds and different kinds of music aimed ultimately to involve the player in the context of a specific game so that his or her experience enjoyed originality. Thence the fact that an important achievement was the use of expected music in specific settings. It was the case of the game Star Wars: X-Wing (Lucas Arts, 1993), where they employed scores inspired in those of John Williams which were intended for the early films of that saga. The reason for that is not other than generate a setting that takes up the gamer and identifies him or her with what he or she sees through what he or she hears. But what is most interesting to the aim of this paper is not the use of the, by then, novel sound system iMUSE24 but the fact that the sounds we hear in the videogame respond exclusively to the universe depicted in films; and that is precisely what the user expects —we could not hear noises or music in the space vacuum and, nevertheless, we have generated an audiovisual image which is hard to break however Physics explains something that is utterly the opposite. It is all the same as far as videogames set in the Middle Ages are concerned— contextualising melodies and noises generated in an imaginary product of 20th century cinematography. It is really so. Photograms have fixed in the collective memory facts, behaviour, gestures, sounds which will be difficult to eradicate from popular culture as nitid images of what the past was like, although in fact it may have been differently. The ending of a gladiator combat in a Roman amphitheatre is always referred to as something made up by the cinema. But we can also mention that the music of Rome has been presented in the epic scores by Miklós Rózsato Ben-Hur (William Wyler, 1959), above all in Prelude and Anno Domini, King of Kings (Nicholas Ray, 1961) and Quo Vadis? (Mervyn LeRoy, 1951), the three of them produced by MGM, not to

23. “Música de videojuegos”. Wikipedia. 1 June 2014. . 24. Interactive Music Streaming Engine, by Michael Land and Peter McConnell. Motor to the playing of videogame music. IMUSE. Wikipedia. 13 January 2014. .

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mention the soundtrack composed by Rózsa himself to El Cid (Samuel Bronston, 1961).25 We insist on this point because if those pieces influenced the later cinema outstandingly and helped to establish and fix even further the idea of what Roman Antiquity was, the turning point occurred unexpectedly with the premiere of the film Gladiator, the soundtrack of which was composed by the already mentioned Hans Zimmer. It is not surprising to check that the soundtrack to the musical videogame Rome Total War (The Creative Assembly), a product of Jeff van Dyck’s, takes as its model the German musician’s composition and ignores the kind of classic music generated by Rózsa’s grand style. That is why it is crucial to understand that the soundtrack applied to the videogames which have a historical content set in the Medieval period has almost always been linked to what a medium user would expect to hear —a melody which can be accepted as perfectly possible in a Medieval context. The auditory sensation is not perceived in the same way if we hear the background music played with a flute on ancient chords inStronghold 3 (Firefly Studios, 2011) while we are picking apples or sawing wood as if we were hearing some current pop music. The experience of the game is utterly different, and it is not what the videogame player wants. And this is not an opinion: in most cases the developer does things to meet the demand properly. That is why, in good logic, he or she will use, as far as possible and whenever he or she considers it suitable, that music which sounds Medieval or which, at least, inspires him or her.26 The case is similar to the soundtrack used in The Sims Medieval (Electronic Arts, 2011). The game, one of the best-known sandboxes, contains melodies of a Medieval nature, a product of John Debney’s. The composer, author of film soundtracks likeCutthroat Island (RennyHarlin, 1995), The Passion of the Christ (Mel Gibson, 2004), Back to the Future (Robert Zemeckis, 1985), The Scorpion King (Chuck Russell, 2002) and I Know What You Did Last Summer (Jim Gillespie, 1997), fully incorporates that setting which accompanies the development of the game. And that is precisely what it is all about: giving the right atmosphere, but also inspiring, and above all identifying with, the historical context of the game. Certainly it is about an epic sound, paralleled with the aim of the product: Conquer the Middle Ages with The Sims! Your Kingdom is awaiting you! (Blurb of the game). It is a case very similar to that of Jeremy Soule, the John Williams of the videogames, the author of soundtracks like the Harry Potter saga and IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey, but who interests us much more because he is the composer of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (illustration 3).Each one of them is fully

25. The Hungarian composer met with Ramón Menéndez Pidal, the historical consultant on the film, from whom he took several ideas for some specific pieces. Vidal, José. “El Cid. Reseña”.Score Magacine. 8 September 2008. 1 June 2014. . 26. For the videogame Robin Hood: The legend of Sherwood (Spellbound Entertainment Software, 2002, although republished by FX Interactive in 2009), Santiago Lamelo Fagilde makes the following comment: La música está bien, está muy bien ambientada en la época y no se hace demasiado repetitiva... pero yo la desconecto (“Its music is all right, is very well set in its epoch and does not become repetitive... but I switch it off”). Meristation. 24 December 2002. 13rd January 2014. . We have included this to show how partial each user may be with their particular experience of the game, something one has to count on at every moment.

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identified by users not really with the oneiric and fantastic Middle Ages reflected in the latter titles but with the products themselves.

Illustration 3: The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim.

We compare these cases with others that are more in harmony with the composition of soundtracks to films, like James Horner’s toBraveheart (Mel Gibson, 1995). They are more than reminiscences of melodies identified with the Middle Ages through an updated filter of contemporary music, with the auditory image of its title (whether film or videogame). Ultimately they make up a model generated on the heels of a preestablished canon which has spread throughout the cinematographic history of the 20th century, as we have been suggesting. If we extrapolate this matter to the visual aspect, we can find the iconography for a Medieval combat in Orson Welles, who, in Chimes at Midnight (1966), opened the way for later film makers to be able to build up sequences, already classic, of a Medieval battle, and again Braveheart is useful to us in reference to what we are commenting. The photography in the latter is the idea that we have, the most plausible idea for our conceptual memory of what the world is like, of what it was like, and ultimately of how we perceive the past. As a final reflection, we must pose a logical question —if it is clear to us that Medieval music is the music that has been possible to keep by oral tradition (a musical tradition in this case) and, above all, through the scores preserved, the question is if what we expect to hear as a Medieval melody corresponds with reality,

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that is, if the Medieval music we hear on a videogame existed or not. The answer is evident: it is what it seems, and our society, which, like any society, follows clear and defined models, if it does not have those cultural referents, it generates or invents them, so that it matters very little if that melody is Medieval or it is not —the fundamental thing is that it can seem to be Medieval and, ultimately, that it can simulate a context to generate the experience of the game.

3.2. Sounds and Noises

Sound is a sensation which is generated inside the ear coming from vibrations of things. Only since a few decades ago has it been taken by history as an object to study. In the case we are dealing with here and paralleled with what is meant by a soundtrack as the melody which generates the experience of the game, the special effects produced by a good accompaniment of specific noises (a closing door, a fishing net being thrown, swords hitting, galloping or trotting, neighing, barking, shouting) succeed in recreating that involving milieu which, ultimately, is what the game aims at. In this sense, at present it is more plausible to reproduce specific noises than remember some kind of music which has not been preserved and is only kept in our imaginative cupboard, as what is needed is only to recreate it in a studio or in reality and record it. The development of melodies throughout technological progress, as we have already mentioned, is applicable as well to sounds/noises in videogames. The first-person combats inChivalry , or those carried out by the hosts in Medieval Total War II, have their referent in ambient noises and are aimed to get a better simulation quality. There is no other aim. The user is intended to be directly introduced into a specific setting, and the advances in processing involving sound (5.1 or 7.1, the customary use of Dolby Digital for the latest console generations, which reproduce 16 bits at 48 kHz tracks) have taken a quite important qualitative jump. Not much else deserves commenting, as what is obvious shows. Nonetheless, it is worth referring to Carolina Zunino’s suggestion.27 She establishes the following classification for sounds in videogames: 1. Diegetic sounds belong to the simulated world; let us name the noise of shouts, steps, shots and explosions in a war game, and 2. Extradiegetic ones, indifferent to the world and away from an apparent reality, like the soundtrack or music to Pac-Man after eating the Power Pellets. In this case, it is quite interesting to consider the fusion produced when a melody like that is incorporated as the soundtrack of a film whos escript is from a videogame, as is the case with the piece Life in the Arcade, by Henry Jackman, in Rompe Ralph! (Rich Moore, 2012). In the titles developed until the 1990s it is difficult to separate both kinds of sounds, since technological limitations did not enable us to develop those sound

27. Zunino, Carolina. “Música y efectos de sonido en Videojuegos”. Montevideo: Universidad ORT (lecture), 27 February 2012.

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effect soundtracks. However, at present it is easy to know that in the World of Warcraft a kind of plin that can be heard when casting a spell is diegetic but it is extradiegetic when clicking a button. But beyond this consideration, and framed in the environmental sounds/noises of the setting, the use of such an element is quite interesting, since it helps the player to place him or herself in the right scene, in the specific space, which awaits them with no apparent surprise. Just one case: in the Sims Medieval, the fact of approaching a church prompts that the sound heard is that of repeated bell chiming —quite liturgical— which is also enhanced buy a subtle echo of choral voices. However, the fact of approaching a tavern generates an allegro melody on the flute and with echoes of disorderly voices —the virtual recreation of environmental sounds in an open, relaxed space with no apparent formalities.

3.3. Voices

This section is quite interesting, since one of the most classic aspects of what we assume was the music in the Middle Ages had an oral expression. And not only because of its most characteristic expression, the Gregorian chant, but also because the popular culture of minstrels and troubadours had its truest idiosyncrasy in their representations. The depiction of that urban soundscape sought for in the recreation and virtual simulation in any videogame is not different from that intended by anyone in charge of the soundtrack to a film. That “ambient sound” is to be equally found in The Guild 2 (RuneForge)28, and in all the saga Assassin’s Creed (Ubisoft), just not to say in everyone of them. Similarly and as a fusion between music and voices, it is no wonder that other film soundtracks start with a choral chant, as is the case ofK ingdom of Heaven(2005), by Harry Gregson-Williams (who, by the way, is the author of other soundtracks with a similar interest in the topic we are dealing with, like Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, and The Chronicles of Narnia, as well as Call of Duty 4-Modern Warfare, which appears in the compilation album The Greatest videogame music mentioned29), and, even better known, in Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace (Georges Lucas, 1999), by John Williams, who resorts to the model of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana to generate a legendary image.

28. In reference to this game, the user is allowed to configure the character he or she is going to play with choosing between Catholic and Protestant. The videogame starts chronologically in 1400. Consequently this is one of those historical errors in which historical accuracy is sacrificed to the benefit of the designer’s particular criterion. No other explanation can be found. The music “tiene la peculiaridad de coincidir en una gran cantidad de melodías con la MMORPG de Frogster, Runes of Magic” (“is peculiar in the sense that a great many of its melodies coincide with Frogster’s MMORPG, Runes of Magic”). A comment by José Álvaro. Sañudo Díaz for Meristation: “Esperando al Renacimiento”. 23 August 2010. Meristation PC. 1 June 2014. . 29. See footnote 14.

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But we are interested in how the characters that appear produce their voices, since they do not reproduce the way of speaking in those times. This may be a too simplistic view, but we present it as a resource to express again that we are dealing with a means of marketing a product. One of the great technological advances was to give each character his or her own voice, which had an effect on the quality improvement in the experience of the game, although occasionally the synchronisation of lips with speech is not quite accurate. This is an element worth considering, since there are some factors that can be incorporated into the dynamics of the game and that are useful in the developing of the game. It is the case of Soldier of Fortune (Raven, 2000), in which, according to the placement of the enemy’s language, the game is placed in the part of the world where the action occurs.30 The intonation and voices of dubbing actors and actresses, who participate more and more frequently in the soundtrack of some videogames, are a fundamental part of these improvements in the experience of the game we have been referring to. We have already mentioned the case of Ramón Langa, who gave his voice to fray Leonardo de Toledo in The Abbey, but it is common practice among film stars, who in greater and greater numbers are deciding to give their voices to give their voices to videogame characters,31 which helps the player to feel more involved and comfortable. Certainly intonation is essential, as it is a feature that fits thegamer in the development of the plot —something indispensable to provide any kind of action in the videogame (whether violent, affectionate, mourning or other) which may come out with some verisimilitude. In this sense it should be pointed out that the military harangues heard at the beginning of some battles in the Total War saga provoke a great dramatic effect; and the same thing happens with the beggars’ supplications in Assassin’s Creed. This section shows different perspectives from which the topic can be tackled. That is why we are not going to go deeper awaiting other more precise studies: the translations which have been used,32 the different accents in the case of Spanish, the use of rude interjections and of what is politically correct, female voices and their role in a videogame, like the several women who appear in the various titles of the Assassin’s Creed saga —including that of Liberation and its heroine Avelyne de Grandpré—, and the off narrators. This latter element is quite interesting in the case of Age of Empires II (Ensemble Studios, 1999), because in the introductory videos of each campaign there appears a narrative which introduces which is to be played

30. Meristation PC. Soldier of Fortune. 13rd January 2015. . 31. This topic has already been dealt with in: Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “The other possible past: simulation of the Middle Ages in videogames”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 5 (2011): 309-310. There is a very interesting updated report about this topic: Jiménez, Juan Francisco “Talento tras el micro”. Hobby Consolas, 255 (2012): 110-115. 32. Serón, Inmaculada. “La traducción de videojuegos de contenido histórico, o documentarse para traducir historia”. Trans. Revista de Traductología, 15 (2011): 103-114.

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and gives its voice to a character, whether a fiction or real one, whose accent or intonation help to generate a historical context. Notwithstanding, and before closing this subsection, we must allude to the cases in which voices are protagonists themselves. We specifically refer to the bards who appear in the Sims Medieval and the minstrels in Assassin’s Creed II. They constitute the fusion of the music used as soundtrack —voices themselves— and the noises they utter, since they are characters, above all in the latter example, who play a specific role in the game, where their poor musical quality makes them a real hindrance to accomplish their mission —illustration 4—. But all of them get accommodated to the expected tones and melodies and which could be placed in the Medieval music.

Illustration 4: Bard with Ezio. Assassin’s Creed II.

4. Medieval Sound Imagery and Conclusions

As well as certain characters (knights templar, crusaders), settings (castles) and historical references (Crusades) refer us to the Middle Ages as long as our cultural context considers it thus, what kind of music and sounds refer us, in videogames, to our imaginary Medieval world? First of all, we must point out that the diversity of what we understand by Medieval music is enormous, as it is a response to how

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broad this phenomenon is in time and its reflection upon the various cultures; such phenomenon is even different according to social strata: ultimately, it depends on the specific tastes of individuals and groups in time and space. Throughout the present study we have alluded repeatedly to that concept —that specific audiovisual iconography— of what we understand was the sound setting in the Middle Ages. Logically it is not a phenomenon exclusive of this period —we can relate it perfectly well, and also with a similar facility, to later periods. In Empire: Total War (The Creative Assembly, 2009), the melodies which can be heard when a virtual battle is being loaded correspond to pieces inspired in baroque music, not to mention Shogun Total War, where the whole soundtrack corresponds to pieces of Japanese theme music. All of them have had to do with Jeff van Dyck’s work, like in the rest of the titles in the saga, which include all those of Medieval times and their extensions (Viking Invasion or Kingdoms). Let us insist: we are dealing with experiences of game where the sound plays a crucial role.33 Francisco Pérez Quevedo underlines the fact that videogame music is characterised by its adaptability (it gets adapted to what is happening in the game), dynamism (it changes dynamically according to the player’s actions), information (it informs the player of the events occurring on the screen), immersion (it simplifies the player’s immersion into the virtual world) and narrative character (it helps narrate the story in the videogame). In this sense it constitutes a sound imagery joining together elements of contemporary music and acoustics with others coming from different folklore traditions which, supposedly, refer us to the Medieval world. In spite of it, this imagery is characterised by its lack of historicity. Notwithstanding, the developers’ intention at all times is to involve the user in the historical context the videogame is trying to simulate. This is the case of Medieval Total War (The Creative Assembly, 2002), where each of the factions and kingdoms has its own melody; so the player can hear from Gregorian chants to Oriental Arabic rhythms, and besides the melody is adjusted to fit the events that happen in the game. The change in the quality of the sound effects appeared in the subsequent editions. Juan J. Fermín’s advice in his critique to this title precisely, where he alluded to their excessive simplicity,34 seems to have been listened to by

33. As a sample in relation with the case of Napoleon: Total War (2010), let us transcribe the comment on this aspect of the videogame by Nicholas Werner in Inside Gaming Daily (3 March 2010): “This is a no- brainer: the game sounds amazing. Whether it will be the first volley of musket fire, the distant rumble of cannons, the yell of charging troops, or even the piper playing a marching tune, the sound design on this game is stellar from top to bottom. You’ll want to dip down into the fighting just to hear the bayonets clashing. The musical score is unapologetically epic, and would almost border on the silly if it weren’t for the fact that this is Napoleon, who really was that epic. This is a feast for your ears”. 1 June 2014 . It is obviously an opinion, a value judgement, but our purpose is, once again, to show the experience of the game itself. 34. Fermín, Juan J. “El arte de la guerra”. Meristation. 24 October 2002. After referring to the quality of its music: “No se pueden aplicar los mismos elogios a los efectos de sonido. Si bien se ajusta a la distancia y el ángulo de la cámara, resulta deprimente oír un simple y poco entusiasta “¡Ah!” cuando más de mil hombres se lanzan a la carga. Yo hago más ruido cuando me vacunan de la gripe, sobre todo si quien esgrime la aguja es Greta, una enfermera vikinga que me saca cuarenta kilos. El resto, desde el cabalgar de la caballería al entrechocar de los aceros, son bastante apagados y carecen de convicción. Desde aquí,

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the developing team, since in the following products of the series this aspect is very well achieved: they include quite realistic cinematographic scenes. And the key of all we have just been saying seems to lie here: a videogame seeks re-creation so that, ultimately, such recreation succeeds in the most appropriate simulation effect, the same auditory model as in the cinema, in that two-way process which has been produced between both media of cultural expression since over a decade ago. We can see Jeff van Dyck’s inspiration in a Rome Total War (Gladiator), John Williams’s epic in Save Soldier Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998)35; also in Michael Giacchino’s notes in Medal of Honor (Electronic Arts), particularly in Allied Assault (2002) and Airborne (2007). The latter is precisely one of the best examples, together with Zimmer, of what we are just explaining. Giacchinois also the composer of so well-known soundtracks as Star Trek Into Darkness (J.J. Abrams, 2013), The Incredibles (Brad Bird, 2004), Ratatouille (also by Brad Bird in collaboration with Jan Pinkava, 2007), Up (Peter Docter, 2009) and others. Therefore, it is necessary to count on those sound spaces to achieve the simulation of a context we imagine as plausible and which, also, accompanies and envelops the user in a placement setting generated by the Medieval soundscape it aspires to re-create —here it is re-creation all right— since the situation now is a feigned one —the videogame. In order to rebuild them, we consider we can resort to some of the postulates established by Claudia Gorbman36 for the narrative cinema music as well as to some concepts from Semiotics which are applied to music: both videogames and music are audiovisual communication media and, therefore, images and sounds are united in the communication and perception of their message37 and, particularly, the historical videogames selected present the technical, structural and formal features compatible with classic narrative cinematography— a linear narrative development un consejo a los responsables de sonido: la próxima vez metan en sus ordenadores el DVD de Gladiator o Braveheart y háganlo funcionar en cualquier escena de batalla con el monitor apagado. Y díganse: “Así es como debo hacerlo yo”(“The same eulogies cannot be said about the sound effects. The distance and angle of the camera are adjusted all right, but it is depressing to hear just a simple and scarcely enthusiastic ’Oh!’ when more than a thousand men are charging. I make myself more noise when am being vaccinated for the flu, particularly if it is Greta who is brandishing the syringe —she is a Viking nurse who is forty kilos heavier than I am. The rest, from the cavalry riding to the sword clashing, are rather dull and lack in conviction. From here, a piece of advice to those in charge of the sound: next time play your Gladiator or Braveheart DVDs, and listen to any battle scene keeping your screen off, and tell yourselves, ’This is the way I must do it myself’”). Meristation PC. Medieval Total War. 13rd January 2015. . 35. The sound track to Band of Brothers, by Michael Kanen, or that to The Pacific, by Hans Zimmer, can be included in this section. 36. Gorbman, Claudia. Unheard Melodies. Narrative Film Music. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. 37. On building up a theory of “Audiovision”, Michel Chionaddressed the relationship between sound and image as a mutual collaboration between two different languages to formulate a meaning or the intensification of a specific perception. The concept developed by Chionrefers to the “value added” by sound. Thus, he refers to an expressive and informative quality with which a sound enriches a specific image, with the result from there of what he calls as “audiovisual illusion”. Chion, Michel. La Audiovisión. Introducción a un análisis conjunto de la imagen y el sonido. Barcelona: Paidós, 1993.

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with a presentation, a climax and a resolution.38 In a near future we may find hybrids which go deeper into this phenomenon. One final question. Is it possible to distinguish between the sound imageries of the videogame creators and those of the players? Actually not, because what this is all about is to meet a previous demand coming from the latter; and the starting basic point is a decisive factor: the videogame designer is also their user. He or she intends to meet the player’s demand and uses the same criterion, the same auditory memory and the same code to identify a melody and sounds with a precise past —in this case with a Medieval past in its characteristic variants, whether it is a game which involves Christian societies or a game which deals with Islamic ones.

38. The “classic narrative” is defined by the theory of the cinema as an editing style which prioritises the narrative and dramatic continuity. Properly speaking, it is not a model but a set of options and conventions the objective of which is to preserve the unity of scenic space, creating an space intelligibility for the narrated events. See Suzana Miranda. “Escutarum Filme: Variações de uma mesma Música”. Anais do XIII Encontro Nacional da Anppom. Música do Século XXI. Tendências, Perspectivas e Paradigmas. Belo Horizonte: Escola de Música da Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais, 2001: II, 554-560.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 307-327 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.14

CARMEN: COLLABORATION IN THE FACE OF CONTEMPORARY CHALLENGES

Simon Forde Western Michigan University USA

Date of receipt: 27th of January, 2015 Final date of acceptance: 18th of March, 2015

Abstract

The CARMEN network was set up after preliminary discussions at the Leeds International Medieval Congress 2006. Participants agreed that there was a need for a European version of the Centers and Regional Associations committee (CARA) of the Medieval Academy of America. It was also agreed that such a project should be open and global, and modelled on an informal network as opposed to some formal academy or learned society. This paper assesses how successful CARMEN has been in achieving its stated or implicit goals from eight years ago, in particular: 1. generating research funding for medievalists, 2. learning from each other and sharing best practice, 3. creating a global platform for medieval centres and national associations, 4. becoming a sustainable network.

Keywords

Global history-400-1500 CE, area studies, medieval studies-history of 1967 to present, CARMEN Worldwide Medieval Network, Medieval Academy of America.

Capitalia verba

Historia Universalis ab Anno CD usque ad MD, Studiorum area, Studia Historiae Medievalis ab Anno MCMLXVII usque ad Hodie, CARMEN retis Universalis Medii Aevi, Academia Mediaevalis Americae.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 329-340 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.9.15 329 330 Simon Forde

Despite my own involvement as conceiver of the project and its director in these intervening years, I shall try to present the compromises, the cul-de-sacs, the failures and tensions that Co-operative for the Advancement of Research throught a Medieval European Network (CARMEN) has experienced, at least from my perspective.

1. Generating research funding for medievalists

1.1 Early successes

The exploratory meeting at Leeds in 2006 was galvanised around the idea that medievalists, regardless of their context, country or institutional strength, always needed more research funding. At that stage it was clear that increasing amounts of research money either came from international organisations (e.g. at European level) or through bilateral international programmes. At the very least national funding agencies expected funding applicants to demonstrate active involvement in international partnerships and research impact at a global level. Prof. Dick de Boer, then director of the Dutch national research school for Medieval Studies, played a major role in defining this strategy. He became the initial Academic Director for CARMEN and was instrumental in promoting an awareness of how medievalists should be aware —at the earliest possible stages— of international funding programmes, and in shaping them. He put this into practice through proposing to European Science Foundation the following research theme, and getting it accepted: Understanding regional dynamics in Europe calls for a comparative and inter- disciplinary approach to historical developments (from their very origins throughout historical times) and to the constituent elements of regional cohesion (dialect and language, religion, historical geography, ethnogenesis, invented tradition, material culture etc.) Starting from a historical basis, the EUROCORES programme “EuroCORECODE: European Comparisons in Regional Cohesion, Dynamics and Expressions” offers a challenge to a wide range of disciplines in the humanities to start exploring the functional dynamics of different aspects of regional development and its modern perspectives. Prof. De Boer had identified the EUROCORE programme at the ESF which supported Collaborative Research Projects (CRPs) and proposed the overarching theme of “Regional Diversity and Cohesion” at a time when he was aware that the tensions of further centralisation of the European Union were becoming more tangible. CARMEN participants were able to piggy-back on Prof. De Boer’s initiative through advance warning of what was happening, and by inviting representatives of funding agencies (such as the “Humanities in the European Research Area

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Network” [HERA-Net]) to discuss their ways of working, what they were seeking to achieve, and what made a successful application and project. Within the EUROCORECODE theme, eventually three CRPs gained funding, each averaging 1 million euro over three to four years. Two of the three were CARMEN- led. One was by Dick de Boer himself (Cuius Regio: An analysis of the cohesive and disruptive forces destining the attachment of groups of persons to and the cohesion within regions as a historical phenomenon). The other was a hastily-collected network of Copenhagen, Krems, Tallinn, Trondheim and Budapest on a project entitled Symbols that bind and break communities: Saints’ cults as stimuli and expressions of local, regional, national and universalist identities. This triple success (overarching theme, and two million-euro projects) was hugely important for CARMEN in its early years. First, it showed that CARMEN would not, as some had initially feared, be simply a talking shop, with no action and benefits. Second, it gave CARMEN credibility with medievalists, and with heads of departments or deans in home institutions. Third, it raised CARMEN’s profile, since both the Cuius Regio and the Cult of Saints projects presented research findings at the Kalamazoo and Leeds conferences for medievalists, but also at major conferences of modern historians, urban historians, historians of music and so forth. Lastly, it provided CARMEN with a source of income for four years, since these projects also met at the CARMEN annual meetings and small amounts of money, typically 6000 euro, could be used from the project budgets on CARMEN to assist them disseminate their research findings. This undoubted success had two negative aspects, though. First, because these major funding programmes were European it gave the impression that CARMEN was solely focused on European participants. In particular, it was difficult to demonstrate benefits to colleagues from Canada, the USA and Australasia, who were not normally eligible for these funds. Second, some participants at early CARMEN meetings absorbed a message that CARMEN was solely interested in income-generating projects and had no wider scholarly agenda. Internally within CARMEN opinions differed to this approach. The Cult of Saints project was successfully drawn together in barely two months, and worked very successfully. But this happened because almost all the partners were well known to each other, and trust in each other had grown over many years. Adequate trust is a sine qua non for any successful international funding application and project. Naturally, CARMEN’s aim is to foster these relationships so that —in time— groups have coalesced with a sufficiently common understanding of a research problem and with sufficient personal trust and commitment to make it work. But such a process can take several years and is difficult to rush. Accordingly, some opinions within CARMEN wished CARMEN to focus more on developing such groups and relationships, and downplay the urgency for applying for funding imminently. Additionally, the two successful EUROCORECODE projects had been instigated by members of the CARMEN Executive, and the applications largely pulled together by these individuals. On one hand, this was successful, and a relatively neutral person with good knowledge of funding terminology and

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processes helped gain these awards. On the other hand, CARMEN could not become responsible for instigating and managing funding applications —that had to be done by participants on their own initiative.

1.2 The impetus towards links with businesses in sectors relevant to Medieval Studies

Since those successes in 2010 CARMEN’s success rate is patchy. Prof. Pam King (then director of the Centre for Medieval Studies at Bristol) made a successful submission to the ESF for a workshop entitled Re-inventions of Early-European Performing Arts and the Creative City, Civic Regeneration and Cultural Tourism (REPACC). This workshop took place in Budapest in September 2012, directly after CARMEN’s seventh annual meeting at the Central European University, Budapest. The workshop drew thirty participants —academics, practitioners, adapters of historical drama in contemporary settings, and social scientists. A clear outline for how to develop this into a major research project resulted, but no opportunity has yet been found for gaining the necessary funding. Several other bids to the ESF for so-called Exploratory Workshops were not successful. Several CARMEN partners were involved in applications to the European Union’s Marie Skłodowska-Curie Innovative Training Networks. As with the REPACC project, the impetus here took CARMEN in a new direction —funding for doctoral (and some postdoctoral) training, and closer partnerships with business sectors relevant to medieval studies. CARMEN was able to define the following sectors that could be of interest for career-development of medievalists: 1. Organisers of urban festivals based on historical themes 2. Translation services (incl. scholarly translation into English) 3. Publishing, including Open Access and digital publication 4. Active recreation and leisure 5. Cultural tourism, heritage sites and hospitality industries 6. Video game creation (for games which use historical settings or themes) 7. Media-press, video and film 8. Institutions of cultural memory (libraries, archives, museums), particularly in relation to school and educational programmes (artefacts and learning) 9. Graphic design, PR and promotional industries 10. Heritage restoration (built environment and artefacts) So far, however, the network of potential business partners offering reliable internships and meaningful research collaboration is very limited, and is best in the Publishing sector. Ideally, this would be a high priority in the coming few years. The first, and (I believe) so far the only, Marie Curie ITN in the Humanities to gain EU funding is, in fact, a medieval project. But it developed independently of CARMEN. PIMIC (Power and Institutions in Medieval Islam and Christendom) does build on two centres that have been heavily involved in CARMEN the Centro de Ciencias

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Humanas y Sociales, a center of the Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas (CSIC), and the University of St Andrews), but it developed independently of CARMEN and their two business partners were Brill Publishers in Leiden and López-Li Films in Madrid.

1.3 The situation today

The CSIC and St Andrews have been successful in a number of major funding projects. For instance, Ian Johnson at St Andrews has played a key role in COST Action IS1301 (New Communities of Interpretation: Contexts, Strategies and Processes of Religious Transformation in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe). This project runs from 2013 to 2017 but itself grew out of a major individual funding grant to Sabrina Corbellini (Groningen) from the European Research Council. We can similarly expect this project to morph into a new form after 2017. Other major centres, such as Vienna, have however been exceptionally successful in gaining national and international grants, without any participation in CARMEN. The efforts of Walter Pohl with a network of established early medieval scholars in Leeds, Utrecht and Cambridge have been amply rewarded. But increasingly Vienna is attracting funds for new directions of research —into the Arabian peninsula, and into Asian and global medieval studies. By contrast, several unsuccessful projects instigated by CARMEN participants in East-Central Europe have shown that the reputation of the Principal Investigator(s) and their home institutions weigh heavily, and so CARMEN has played some role in strategic tie-ups for good partners from eastern Europe and more established names in western Europe.

1.4 National and bilateral successes

CARMEN has tried to open up the funding discussion to multilateral and bilateral programmes between countries. CARMEN’s Forum for National Associations adopted the task of collating details, country by country, of bilateral possibilities with other countries. But, apart from Argentina, Germany and a few other countries, this project is far from complete or active. The Centre for the History of Emotions at the University of Western Australia has been the medieval (and early modern) centre that has been the most successful of all in gaining public funding. It was the sole humanities institution to be awarded funding by the Australian Research Council’s Centres of Excellence program. Public funding is worth $A24.25m over seven years. Again, CARMEN can take no credit for the CHE’s success. However, the higher profile, international standing and greater self-confidence of Australian medievalists on a global stage did arguably play some role in this award.

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The Centre for Medieval Literature in Odense and York was similarly established by a large national grant, this time by the Danish National Research Foundation. This new Centre for Excellence was based at the University of Southern Denmark in Odense, and also the University of York. It started in early 2012, for six years, but with the possibility of an extension into 2022. Again, no direct thanks to CARMEN, though some of the personal connections that brought the contributing parties together date back to a CARMEN meeting in Prato in 2008.

1.5 Some conclusions

CARMEN clearly has played a valuable role in opening up possibilities for gaining research funding in Medieval Studies. But, as the competition increases, the onus will be on individuals to take the initiative, with CARMEN perhaps playing more of an advisory role in diverting groups in directions that have better prospects. The role of the Academic Director (currently Gerhard Jaritz from the Austrian Academy of Sciences in Krems and the Central European University, Budapest) will remain crucial in giving early warning of topics that funding bodies will support, and new funding opportunities. This has been demonstrated most clearly with the HERA 2015 call for projects on the theme ’Uses of the Past’, which is a topic that has been explored over several meetings by CARMEN. The HERA 2015 programme also indicates an area where CARMEN has perhaps been successful. The HERA 2015 call will be announced in mid-January 2015. In late January in Tallinn 350 scholars will have been invited to a ’matchmaking event’. The aim is to bring individuals who wish to participate in some bigger project with partners who have an overall theme and are prepared to manage it, but are open to finding other contributors across Europe. Several CARMEN members have been selected and funded to go to Tallinn. And one of the provisional research areas is one to be organised by CARMEN and managed out of the University of Leeds on Uses and Misuses of the Medieval Past Inside and Outside Europe. These ’matchmaking events’ are identical in purpose to the ’market-place’ meetings that CARMEN holds, traditionally throughout the Saturday morning of its annual meetings. Participants have a stall to display research interests and activities of their own centre or association, while other participants wander at their leisure and enter into discussions to discover any commonality of interest. Coincidentally, or perhaps not coincidentally, this was the topic of the opening speech by Gábor Klaniczay, then head of the Department of Medieval Studies at the Central European University at CARMEN’s inauguration in March 2007. The minutes record that:

[Gábor Klaniczay] summarized the history of the foundation of the CEU, the political context at the time and the CEU’s aims, the discussions that led to the creation of a Medieval Studies Department, and the achievements and features of the department. He then went on to outline the challenges faced in East-Central Europe today for medievalists: resurgent nationalist movements which claimed their own medieval authenticity, academic jealousies

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between public and private, religious and secular universities in the region, and the historic and contemporary meanings invested in the concept of Europe.

Research themes and outputs are increasingly defined by national and supra- national governments as they try to maximise beneficial returns on public spending. Many of these themes are found around the world. Identifying likely research areas is not the difficult element; the difficulty lies in preparing the groups and assisting the groups and knowing which themes are being funded and then.

2. Learning from each other and sharing best practice

CARMEN is a continuing journey of learning, especially as the contexts for humanities research are changing fast. Some countries have moved faster than others, though the direction of travel has been similar across the EU and other Western countries like Canada and Australia where governments are the main funding agency for research. The exception to this model, in developed countries, is the US where government funding for humanities is small and marginal. Nonetheless, despite the overwhelming dominance of English in academic discourse (though less so in many humanities disciplines), the US is becoming somewhat exceptional, in that careers are still made by publishing individual ground-breaking research and developing a coterie of doctoral students and disciples. Notwithstanding, US university administrators increasingly emphasise ’public understanding of research’, and ’community engagement’, both of which correspond to terms like ’impact’, ’social impact’, and ’valorisation’ which have become commonplace in Europe. The science-based model of team-based laboratories commissioned to solve a particular problem is now deeply embedded in Europe, Canada and Australia in a way that is not the case in the US. Whether this is a good use of limited public resources is a matter of debate. If Anglo-American research remains dominant in a generation’s time, then one might ask serious questions about this expenditure. On the other hand, some key research theories today, like Reception History and Cultural Memory, have a German origin. Has CARMEN facilitated the spread of these trends (collaborative, cross-faculty working, problem-solving research, research with a social impact)? Certainly, it is noticeable over the past decade how much better embedded younger scholars from east-central Europe are in international associations, often with positions in major ’western’ universities. Exchange within northern Europe has spread from being a Nordic phenomenon to one that includes Britain, the Baltic lands, the Low Countries and Germany. Notable gaps in this exchange remain. Poitiers, Lleida and CSIC-Madrid are the only three institutions in France, Spain and Italy to be regular participants in CARMEN. Clearly, CARMEN is not operating in ways that seem congenial to

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medievalists from these countries; one can only guess at the reasons for this. Portugal is the exception to this southern European phenomenon and that is perhaps solely due to the proselytising of Cristina Pimenta from Porto. CARMEN’s main successes have been with its links to Australasia and Latin America. Both continents are full and active partners within CARMEN. Presumably CARMEN serves as an invaluable entrée into scholarly networks beyond their traditional ones (Spain, Portugal and France for Latin Americans, and the UK and US for Australasians). This has not been one-way, since the Australian success in gaining $A24.5m for its Centre for the History of Emotions has been an eye-opener for many.

3. Creating a global platform for medieval centres and national associations

One of the earliest concepts for CARMEN involved it becoming an international forum for the presidents of national associations in each country. This ’United Nations’ model was problematic, since some countries had no national association of medievalists and had no desire to form one (e.g. the UK), others had an association of medieval historians and had more desire to link with early-modern historians than with medieval philologists and other medievalists (e.g. Italy). Others had multiple medieval associations, divided on political grounds (e.g. Poland). This complex structure was one of the reasons for opting instead for an informal, inclusive network. A second complication with this idea is a matter of purpose, or lack of one. Some individuals believed that the national associations would together have a combined power that could influence university deans, provosts or even ministers of education. There was some evidence in this favour in the case of two proposals to cut positions: one in Australia, one in the US. A lobby led by Bob Bjork, director of the Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies and initial chair of what was originally called the Advocacy committee, had a clear beneficial effect with saving the job at the University of Tasmania. After Bob Bjork’s initial term, Flocel Sabaté i Curull from Lleida took over the chairmanship, under the revised name of the ’Forum for National Associations’. Despite his best efforts it is unclear what the chairs, directors or presidents of the various associations want to achieve at their meetings. The countries regularly present in this forum include association representatives from Argentina; Australia and New Zealand; Bosnia; France; Germany, Austria and German-speaking Switzerland; the Netherlands and Flanders; Portugal; Spain; and the USA. In addition, representatives from national bodies in Brazil, Canada, Chile, China, Italy, Mexico and Taiwan have attended once or more. Plus CARMEN has a representative for several years now from the Institute for World History of the Russian Academy of Sciences in Moscow. The UK has been represented by the

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director of the International Medieval Congress at Leeds; and east-central Europe by the Central European University in Budapest and its own network, lately formalised as MECERN (the Medieval Central Europe Research Network). CARMEN therefore has relatively good coverage across the four corners of Europe. Eastern Europe is handicapped by finance because individuals find it difficult to attend meetings every year. Northern Europe has played a major role to now, but it may be that Finland will overtake Denmark as the leading player there. With the exception of Portugal and, to some extent, Spain, the involvement of southern Europe is not what it should be. Beyond Europe, the Australasian medieval and early modern association (ANZAMEMS) and the various national research networks or projects (NEER, then CHE) have been strongly active from the outset. The Medieval Academy of America has been ever-present too, but under its new director, Lisa Fagin Davis, the institutional commitment and support is far more solid. Flocel Sabaté devoted huge effort in getting involvement across Latin America and this has paid fruit. Argentina, Chile and Brazil are the three countries with the greatest tradition, number of scholars and students and all three countries are now actively involved. As CARMEN director, I have participated in the Argentinian (now biennial) meeting of medievalists in Buenos Aires in September 2014, and will attend the Brazilian equivalent in July 2015. China, Taiwan, Korea and Japan are missing, as too any representatives of medievalists from Africa and the Middle East, including Turkey. These regions should be targets for CARMEN for the coming decade. After an initial few years when the focus was on Europe, CARMEN is now in a mind-set and position to play a role as the central meeting place for representatives of centres and associations from across the world. Challenges remain to establish a clear purpose for these gatherings, and to embrace researchers from Asia and Africa.

4. Becoming a sustainable network

4.1 Founding principles

When CARMEN was founded, two principles were enunciated: that CARMEN would be an informal network, and it would be open for all. During the first three years there was considerable discussion about how these principles would operate in practice. Participants from southern European countries argued that CARMEN must be registered with some international agency, have a constitution, membership structures and elections; otherwise it was impossible for them to get funding from their institutions or governments to participate in CARMEN meetings. But this argument implied a legal superstructure that contradicted the aim of an informal network.

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But even as an informal network, CARMEN had certain costs —maintaining a website, underwriting the annual meetings (even if the host organisation bore the majority of costs), paying travel and accommodation expenses for invited speakers to the annual meetings, and supporting colleagues from countries that were strategically important but where travel funds were minimal (e.g. , Latin America, parts of eastern Europe). That required funds held by CARMEN. This implied that CARMEN would have members and might contribute funds or subscription dues. But this argument contradicted the aim of a network open to all, regardless of financial contributions. Efforts were made in the early years to compromise on the first point: by establishing a Constitution, Goals and similar, and to establish a list whereby institutions could register their membership. However, this was extremely time- consuming and generated barely a handful of registrations from Italy and Spain, who were the main proponents of this step. In other countries, deans or university administrators refused to sign such a membership document simply because it might imply a commitment that they could not quantify. This proved a dead-end exercise, and CARMEN stopped this level of formality after the annual meeting in Krems in 2009. Since then, CARMEN has maintained a very broad circulation list of interested parties (managed by the secretary, Kateřina Horníčková), together with a working handlist of ’participating institutions and associations’, loosely defined as institutions that have signed a formal membership document, or who have been active by attending annual meetings or another key activity in the last three years.

4.2 Self-funding

At Poitiers in 2008 the annual meeting examined ways in which CARMEN might fund itself, whilst preserving free membership. Dick de Boer, then on the point of being awarded a 1.4m euro grant from the ESF proposed that projects which had been developed in association with CARMEN should pay a small amount to CARMEN’s running costs. Major collaborative projects like these allowed scope for this, under budget-lines such as Dissemination Activities, Project Meetings (coincidentally held during CARMEN meetings). As a result the Saints’ Cults project (but not Cuius regio) contributed 6000 euro each year for four years to CARMEN (out of its almost 1m euro grant). Meanwhile, Dr Elizabeth Tyler at the University of York had applied for £20k of funding from the University of York and from the Worldwide Universities Network. The former was a discretionary fund from the Vice-Chancellor’s Office to develop areas of expertise at York. The latter was a competitive grant from the WUN consortium of sixteen major research universities across the world. And it tied York and Bristol in the UK (both WUN members) with WUN partners in Australia (UWA, then home of the Australian Network for Early European Research), China (Zhejiang University) and (Bergen, which at the time was the lead-party of

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a major trans-Nordic Centre for Medieval Studies). This helped CARMEN establish a proper financial structure based at York and managed by the secretary of the Centre for Medieval Studies there, Gillian Galloway. This was a two-year fixed grant, largely spent on a 20% salary for the CARMEN Director, to give the operation a firmer structure. Unfortunately, the funding bids submitted during this period were unfruitful and it coincided with a period of severe ill-health on my part, as director, so the outcomes were far less than should have been the case. The principle of free membership has, though, been maintained. Nonetheless, since 2012 CARMEN has been making steps to a different funding model, based on voluntary contributions. This started at the Budapest annual meeting in 2012 whereby participants were asked to contribute money to cover the costs of daytime meals and refreshments which had theretofore been borne by the host institution (evening meals, travel and bed-and-breakfast had always been the financial responsibility of the individual). This principle has continued in Porto in 2013 and Stirling in 2014 and is likely to become more explicit in future. CARMEN nonetheless needs about 6000 euro a year to cover travel bursaries, expenses for invited speakers and the half-yearly meeting of the Executive Committee, traditionally held each February in Amsterdam. The decision was made at Porto in 2013 that CARMEN would draw up a letter inviting participating organisations to contribute as they are able, so that we can cover these 6000 euro annual running costs. Individuals too would be invited to contribute on a pay-as-able basis. A contribution of US$1000 was made in autumn 2014 from the Medieval Academy of America, as the first such offering.

5. Conclusions

CARMEN’s original terms of reference were to establish an informal network, open to the whole world. In those terms it has probably succeeded. If CARMEN were to be judged on different criteria, however, the judgement may be negative. Has CARMEN been transformative for medieval studies? Several important major new research centres have developed, directly or indirectly, through CARMEN. But the example of Vienna shows that dynamic individuals and centres elsewhere can develop more successfully using their own networks. The important role of the CEU in Budapest for CARMEN is evident above. Hosts to two annual meetings, the CEU offers an unrivalled link to scholars across east- central Europe, particularly those who have been trained in ways which allow ease of communication with western scholars. The network that the CEU has itself constructed since it was founded in 1991 is a sort of multinational medieval association. It has delivered key members of CARMEN’s executive (Prof. Gerhard Jaritz, since CARMEN’s foundation and its Academic Director since 2009; Kateřina Horníčková who has been our secretary since 2009, and Nada Zečević on the

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executive since 2014). But it has drawn in participation from Russia (Moscow), Estonia (Tallinn), Croatia, Hungary and Bosnia. CARMEN has focused resources, since its early years, on travel grants for key individuals from strategically important centres, such as Moscow, on the condition that the recipient is highly active at the annual meeting to which they are invited. Repeated encounters with the same individual leads to more regular contact and the building of trust and friendship. In the early years, CARMEN was less strategic and people who could only afford to attend CARMEN on alternate years never built up the momentum to benefit from the discussions. The higher profile of Australasian medievalists over the past generation is remarkable. Many early-career scholars from Australia are well networked not only in English-speaking countries (UK and US) but elsewhere. A similar process may be happening in Latin America. Whilst scholars in Portugal and Spain have been aware during the past decade of the increased numbers, interest, quality and financial standing of researchers in Brazil, Argentina, Chile and elsewhere, this is beginning to be noticeable outside the Luso-Spanish world. CARMEN is taking a strategic role in opening up Latin American medieval studies to other areas. CARMEN has made efforts to make links with Taiwan and China in particular. These have not yet borne fruit in the ways it has done elsewhere. And closer to ’home’ some countries like Italy and Canada have not been represented for several years, and there is still an uneven balance in commitment across Europe. Certain trends are evident above and are probably likely to intensify in the coming years: 11. Increasing competition for research funding, and greater direction from the public agencies distributing money —only the most outstanding projects may now get funded, and the level of preparation and skill required will also intensify 12. Greater prominence for scholarship undertaken beyond Western Europe and North America —reflecting an increasingly globalised world and one where East Asia, South Asia and Latin America will become more central 13. Cross-faculty research into defined ’problems’, whereby medieval studies is just one component of the research. Cross-faculty partners might be in medicine, social sciences, creative arts and beyond. 14. More attention to the social or community impact of humanities research outputs, and the need to make meaningful partnerships with the community and with business. Is CARMEN fit to meet these new challenges? Is its informal, free and open network the right model to assist medievalists face these new demands? In such a world, is there a need for a loose, global organisation like CARMEN, or will ’interdisciplinary medieval studies’ (an organisational phenomenon dating back, more or less, to the 1960s) fracture so that individual institutions seek their salvation in entirely different ways —with Centres of Excellence, say, where medievalists are just one component?

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 329-340 / ISSN 1888-3931 / DOI 10.21001/itma.2015.1.15 ORIGINALS OF The Texts not Submitted in English

A VIDA QUOTIDIANA Medieval portuguesa.

PERCURSO HISTORIOGRÁFICO n gl is h E in

Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho Universidade de Coimbra ubm i tted S no t

Sumário e x t s T

Na síntese historiográfica que iremos apresentar tomamos como ponto de partida o livro muito the

precoce, escrito nos anos sessenta por Antonio Henrique de Oliveira Marques, A Sociedade Medieval o f

Portuguesa. Aspectos da Vida Quotidiana para chegarmos à obra colectiva, publicada em 2012, História da Vida Privada em Portugal, que, no seu volume primeiro, contempla a Idade Média. Entre estes

marcos procuraremos traçar um percurso da evolução dos estudos de história económica, social, r i g in al s religiosa, cultural e das mentalidades que trataram a vida quotidiana da casa, da mesa e da convi- O vialidade, em ambientes mais rurais ou urbanos, os dias do trabalho ou os tempos extraordinários festivos, as devoções, a religiosidade e a morte ou a família, a mulher e a criança.

Abrimos este estudo de historiografia com a apresentação de uma obra da década de 60 do século passado e desaguando numa outra já desta década do século XXI. Trata a primeira da vida quotidiana na Idade Média e a segunda da vida privada, o que nos permite, desde logo, uma vez que os dois conceitos não se identificam mas se intersectam, tecer algumas considerações concep- tuais sobre os mesmos. Estas obras, distanciadas por cinco décadas, balizam igualmente o percurso historiográfico que se foi percorrendo em Portugal sobre a temática. Analisam-se então estudos de História rural e urbana, temas da renovada história económica e social portuguesa a partir dos anos 80, ou ainda da história religiosa, da nobreza e dos grupos sociais, para nelas encontrar aflorações do quotidiano dos homens e das mulheres inseridos em diferentes contextos institucionais, sociais e de enquadramentos espaciais e de poderes. Avançando para os finais do século XX, múltiplos temas da vida pública e privada de todos os dias —da mulher à criança, do trabalho, da habitação, da alimentação, do vestuário, da assistên- cia, da morte, do corpo e da sexualidade, da crença e da espiritualidade, das culturas, das festas e dos jogos— foram-se autonomizando em monografias, artigos ou capítulos de obras de síntese, os quais se procuram dar a conhecer, no crescendo da profundidade e alargamento conceptual e metodológico com que operam, e dos campos novos que rasgaram, muitos deles ainda em devir.

1

Em 1956 Antonio Henrique de Oliveira Marques licenciava-se com uma dissertação intitulada A Sociedade em Portugal nos séculos XII a XIV, trabalho que veio a ser publicado com o título A Socie- dade Medieval Portuguesa (Aspectos da vida quotidiana) pela Editora Sá da Costa em 1964. Bem recen-

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 343 temente, em 2012, o Círculo de Leitores deu à estampa a obra, em vários volumes, História da Vida

nglish Privada em Portugal, a qual, no seu primeiro volume, contempla a Idade Média.

E Vida quotidiana e vida privada não são, bem o sabemos, exactamente a mesma coisa, mas apro- in ximam-se muito. E desde logo, o que nos salta à vista é o tempo bem alongado —mais de meio século— que se assinala entre os dois trabalhos, o que nos leva a ter plena consciência do lento amadurecimento destas temáticas na historiografia portuguesa. Mas antes de avançarmos por esse ubmitted devir historiográfico fixemo-nos na obra primeva. S O estudo de Oliveira Marques, que tem já seis edições em português, respectivamente de 1964, n o t 1971, 1975, 1981, 1987 e 20121, bem como duas em inglês2, aborda, nos seus dez capítulos, a mesa, o traje, a casa, a higiene e a saúde, o afecto, o trabalho, a criança, a cultura, as distracções, a morte, exts

T tratando, assim, de temáticas mais materiais de incidência económica e social, enquanto noutras

the aflora comportamentos, culturas e mentalidades. O Autor parece ter-se deixado fascinar por algu-

o f mas páginas de Costa Lobo no seu estudo História da Sociedade em Portugal, mas tinha muito poucos

referentes historiográficos portugueses para o apoiar. Certo é que na Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa, eminentes geógrafos, etnólogos e historiadores —não se podendo aqui esquecer o importante con- 3 riginals tributo de Virgínia Rau— o predispunham para esta inovação e abertura . O Não hesita por isso o seu Autor, no prefácio à primeira edição, em considerar esta obra “um trabalho pioneiro, com todas as desvantagens que a abertura de caminhos traz sempre, de inexpe- riência e de irresolução perante dificuldades imprevistas”4. Mas não deixa também de vincar que a originalidade é menos significativa nos capítulos sobre o afecto e a crença e que a parte referente à cultura se trata de uma síntese dos trabalhos produzidos sobre o tema. A estrutura da obra é explicada por Oliveira Marques com a clareza do seu espírito metódico e pragmático: “A enumeração dos capítulos foi norteada pela vida e pelas necessidades de cada ser humano. O homem precisa, antes de tudo, de se alimentar, de se vestir e de arranjar abrigo. Para não morrer, obriga-se a certos hábitos de limpeza e procura conservar a saúde. É depois que ama, que trabalha, que reza, que se instrui e que se diverte. Finalmente morre e é sepultado”5. Refere ainda a razão da omissão de certos assuntos, fosse porque muito acrescentariam a obra, fosse por falta de estudos que os sustentassem, e justifica a cronologia do estudo que decorre do século XII ao XV. Certo é que esta obra teve muito pouco impacto historiográfico na década de 60 e até mesmo na de 70. Como já escrevi6, verdadeiramente só na década de 80, depois de alguns trabalhos mais profundos sobre a clerezia e a nobreza, se deu relevo a todas as valências dos diversos estratos que

1. As cinco primeiras pela Sá da Costa Editora e a última pela Esfera dos Livros que é uma edição póstuma. 2. Respectivamente de 1971 e 2003. 3. Na realidade era em Lisboa que, nas décadas de 50 e 60, se estudavam os aspectos mais inovadores da sociedade e da vida quotidiana em teses de licenciatura como as de Martins, Maria Otília Simões. Elementos para o estudo do vestuário nos séculos XII-XIV. Lisboa: Faculdade de Letras, 1959; Baquero, Humberto Moreno. Subsídios para o estudo da sociedade medieval (moralidade e costumes). Lisboa: Faculdade de Letras, 1961; Santos, Vitor Manuel Pavão dos. A casa do Sul de Por- tugal na transição do século XV para o XVI. Lisboa: Faculdade de Letras, 1964. E Oliveira Marques continuava a publicar artigos sobre a população e aspectos da vida social e económica, depois reunidos na obra: Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. Ensaios de História Medieval Portuguesa. Lisboa: Portugália Editora, 1965. 4. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa (Aspectos da vida quotidiana). Lisboa: Esfera dos Livros, 2010: 15. 5. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa...: 16. 6. Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “A medievalidade na obra de A. H. de Oliveira Marques”, Na jubilação universitária de A. H. de Oliveira Marques. Coimbra: Minerva, 2003: 24-25.

344 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 compunham a sociedade medieval portuguesa e se incidiu sobre os aspectos do seu quotidiano de

viver, sentir e morrer. n gl is h

Então a obra A Sociedade Medieval Portuguesa de Oliveira Marques tornou-se, quase “uma Bíblia”. E in Ninguém discorreu sobre as funções e os ritmos de trabalho do homem medieval, sobre as suas condições de habitabilidade, higiene ou saúde, sobre as suas manifestações exteriores de vestuário e mesa, sobre os seus afectos e crenças, sobre os seus valores culturais ou distracções ou sobre os seus modos de encarar a morte, sem recorrer a essa obra fundamental. E nela sempre encontrou ubm i tted S —o que é marca identitária do seu autor em toda a sua produção científica— uma clara e sistemáti- no t ca exposição de cada tema, apresentada com clareza e objectividade, suportada por um vocabulário técnico-científico miudamente explicitado, e fundamentada numa ampla e sistemática investiga- e x t s

ção de fontes, sempre abonadas e em pleno identificadas. Julgo que todos os investigadores que T

tenham tido necessidade de recorrer a esta obra colheram nela qualquer sugestão, informação the

bibliográfica ou pista documental, que lhe veio a ser útil. E quando as temáticas da vida quotidiana, o f da convivialidade, dos sentimentos e da religiosidade entraram no circuito do ensinar e aprender, tanto no meio universitário como nos demais graus de ensino, então este livro foi lido e relido,

tornando-se obra de consulta obrigatória. Nas suas palavras e ilustrações se basearam, de facto, r i g in al s muitos docentes e discentes para reconstruírem, no hoje, os tempos de ontem, vestindo persona- O gens, encenando feiras, festas, jogos, torneios e teatros medievais, ou fazendo desfilar embaixadas ou entradas régias. Desaguemos na segunda obra, o dito volume primeiro, coordenado por Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, da História da Vida Privada em Portugal, dirigida por José Mattoso7. Três partes o compõem —partindo dos espaços e lugares, foca-se em seguida o corpo para se atingir por fim a alma. Na primeira distinguem-se os espaços urbanos dos rurais, apresentam-se as diferenciadas construções habitacionais do paço e da casa, explicitam-se as estruturas de parentesco, casamento e designações lexicais das relações familiares, conhecem-se ambientes festivos e conviviais ou marcas de exclusão e marginalidade. O corpo identifica-se pelo nome dos indivíduos, pela alimentação que sustenta os homens, pela particularização de mulheres e crianças, pela atenção à sexualidade, à saúde e à doença. A alma e o espírito revelam-se nas devoções e espiritualidade de homens e mulheres, na representação dos rituais da morte e visão do Além, ou nos mecanismos para perpetuar memórias de indivíduos e de linhagens. A obra em geral toma como modelo a História da Vida Privada, gizada por Philippe Ariès e con- cretizada essencialmente por Georges Duby, após o falecimento do primeiro, e por um grupo de colaboradores, que sai o público em 1983. Justamente no início deste volume o director geral da mesma, José Mattoso, explica os pressu- postos e as dúvidas expressas por Georges Duby, problematizando questões maiores como a dicoto- mia entre público e privado e não menos a difícil fronteira entre a vida privada e a vida quotidiana ou ainda a conceptualização de indivíduo e individualismo. Mas o volume contém ainda uma introdução específica do seu director e coordenador, que particulariza as específicas dificuldades de umaHistória da Vida Privada em tempos medievais. Se enuncia desde logo a escassez de fontes, reforça ainda mai sa questão dos escritos clericais que nos chegam, imbuídos de toda uma estratégia normativa que nos esconde intimismos, acentua

7. Mattoso, José, dir., de Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e, coord. História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Lisboa: Temas e Debates-Círculo de Leitores, 2010.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 345 igualmente a assunção tardia da consciência individual de pecado e de moral dos actos humanos e

nglish insiste, com mais ênfase para tempos medievais, na difícil fronteira entre o público e o privado. E

E quanto a este último ponto escreve: “temos de sublinhar: primeiro, que o uso do conceito de vida in privada para sociedades anteriores à implantação do Estado Moderno tem de ser acompanhado de precauções que relativizam o seu sentido e o seu alcance; segundo, que a oposição público/privado pode, ao contrário do que acontece na Idade Moderna, não ser exclusiva, ou seja há domínios em ubmitted que ela nada significa, ou, até, que não se podem considerar como públicos, nem como privados”8. S A obra concretizou-se com a participação de catorze colaboradores, responsáveis pelos diversos n o t temas analisados. Temas que, tendo uma coerência em si mesmo e nas partes que integram, re- sultam em grande parte da investigação e estudos realizados desde a década de 80 até 2010. Sem exts

T eles esta síntese actualizada não teria sido possível, da mesma forma que a evolução historiográfica

the condicionou a estrutura do trabalho colectivo. Logo, percorrer esta obra pode também ser um

9 o f exercício de história da história medieval portuguesa .

2 riginals

O Muitos balanços sobre a medievalidade portuguesa têm já realçado como na década de 80 se apresentaram duas linhas fortes de estudo —a história rural e a história urbana10. Cinco teses de doutoramento defendidas nessa década no âmbito da história rural (a de Robert Durand11, a de Maria Helena Coelho12, a de Iria Gonçalves13, a de Pedro Barbosa14 e a de Rosa Marreiros15) abriram caminho ao conhecimento, entre outros temas, de processos de colonização, de arroteamentos e cultivo do território, de produções, preços e consumos, de modos de exploração dos senhorios, de rendas e rendimentos senhoriais, de interação de poderes e direitos sobre a posse da terra, de aristocracias vilãs, de trabalhadores da terra —dos camponeses aos assalariados—, de ritmos de trabalho e tempos festivos, de solidariedades aldeãs, de modos de vida, comportamentos e mentali- dades campesinas. E os estudos de história agrária e rural prolongaram-se largamente pela década

8. Mattoso, José, dir., Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. Historia da Vida Privada em Portugal...: 21. 9. Para um recente balanço sobre os estudos de história do quotidiano leia-se Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. “The history of everyday life”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 513-527. 10. Entre outros, veja-se Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Balanço sobre a história rural produzida em Portugal nas últimas décadas”, A cidade e o campo. Colectânea de estudos. Coimbra: Centro de História da Sociedade e da Cultura, 2000: 23-40; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Historiographie et état actuel de la recherche sur le Portugal au Moyen Âge”. Memini. Travaux et documents, 9-10 (2005-2006): 9-60; Homem, Armando Luís de Carvalho; Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Amaral, Luís Carlos. “Por onde vem o medievismo em Portugal?”. Revista de História Económica e Social, 22 (1988): 115- 138. Nestas sínteses se encontra muita da bibliografia citada. 11. Durand, Robert. Les campagnes portugaises entre Douro et Tage aux XIIe et XIIIe siècles. Paris: Fundação Calouste Gul- benkian-Centro Cultural Português, 1982. 12. Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. O Baixo Mondego nos finais da Idade Média. Lisboa: Imprensa Nacional Casa da Moeda, 1989. 13. Gonçalves, Iria. O património do mosteiro de Alcobaça nos séculos XIV e XV. Lisboa: Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 1989. 14. Barbosa, Pedro Gomes. Povoamento e estrutura agrícola na Estremadura Central: século XII a 1325. Lisboa: Instituto Na- cional de Investigação Científica, 1992. 15. Marreiros, Maria Rosa Ferreira. Propriedade fundiária e rendas da coroa no reinado de D. Dinis: Guimarães. Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras (Tese de doutoramento), 1990.

346 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 de 90 e seguintes, ainda que, com a evolução do tempo, fazendo-se sentir uma certa desaceleração 16 dos mesmos . n gl is h

Se Oliveira Marques se apresentou como modelo e incentivo a muitos destes estudos, com a E in publicação, em 1962, da obra Introdução à História da Agricultura em Portugal. A questão cerealífera, é também ele que abre, ainda nesta década de 80, na Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, um mestrado sobre história urbana que foi extraordinariamen- te fértil na produção de monografias sobre as principais cidades e vilas de Norte a Sul de Portu- ubm i tted S gal17. Desde então passou-se a conhecer o traçado do urbanismo medieval nas suas ruas, bairros, no t casas, edifícios públicos religiosos ou laicos de prestígio e infraestruturas de abastecimento, transformação ou armazenamento urbanos. Em consentâneo desvendaram-se os núcleos habi- e x t s tacionais e familiares, a estratificação social e as actividades económicas, do aparelho produtivo T

ao comercial e de serviços, e ainda a religiosidade, a convivialidade e a sociabilidade urbanas, the

plasmadas em redes paroquiais, confraternais e assistenciais. Pôde-se aperceber o perfil das o f linhagens e elites do poder e da governança e os seus comportamentos como grupo ou grupos de poder, traduzidos em hierarquias, símbolos, rituais e cerimónias urbanas.18 E no cruzamento

dos estudos do rural e do citadino tem-se aprofundado o conhecimento da relação mais tensa ou r i g in al s pacífica entre as sedes urbanas e os seus termos aldeãos e das mentalidades e comportamentos O dos homens do campo e da cidade19. Um outro historiador, cujas contribuições são fundamentais para a temática historiográfi- ca que abordamos, marca presença desde as décadas de 50 e 60, rasgando novos campos de

16. Veja-se Amaral, Luís Carlos. “Half a Century of Rural History of the Middle Ages in Portugal. A possible overview”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sou- sa i Vasconcelos, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 303-321. 17. Entre algumas das pioneiras citem-se as de Beirante, Maria Ângela Rocha. Santarém Medieval. Lisboa: Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 1980; Gomes, Rita Costa. “A Guarda Medieval. Posição, morfologia e sociedade (1200-1500)”. Cadernos da Revista de História Económica e Social, 9-10 (1987): 3-126; Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. Uma rua de elite na Guimarães medieval (1376-1520). Guimarães: Câmara Municipal, 1989; Andrade, Amélia Aguiar. Um espaço urbano medieval: Ponte de Lima. Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1990; Rodrigues, Ana Ma- ria S. A. Torres Vedras. A vila e o termo nos finais da Idade Média. Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacional de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1995; Beirante, Maria Ângela Rocha.Évora na Idade Média. Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacional de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1995; Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves.Tomar medieval. Cascais: Patrimonia, 1996; Macias, Santiago. Mértola islâmica. Estudo histórico-arqueológico do Bairro da Alcáçova (séculos XII-XIII). Mértola: Campo Arqueológico de Mértola, 1996; Silva, Manuela Santos. Estruturas urbanas e adminis- tração concelhia. Óbidos medieval. Cascais: Patrimonia, 1997. Assim, na década de 90, realizou-se um encontro científico sobre a temática de que resultou a obra: Jornadas Inter e Pluridisciplinares. A Cidade. Actas, coord. Maria José Ferro Tavares. Lisboa: Universidade Aberta, 1993. 18. O tema da história urbana, analisado sob diversas perspectivas, tem continuado a ser muito fecundo, estudado em teses, obras e artigos por consagrados e jovens historiadores. Para uma cabal percepção dessa produção científica, além dos balanços historiográfico atrás citados, leia-se Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Costa, Adelaide Millán da. “Medieval Portu- gueses Towns. The Difficult Affirmation of a Historiographical Topic”,The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 283-301; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Municipal Power”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 209-230. Outra significativa expressão da produção em torno da vida ur- bana e do quotidiano são os estudos publicados na obra dedicada a Iria Gonçalves, historiadora que muito se debruçou sobre estes temas: Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Fernandes, Hermenegildo; Fontes, João Luís, coords. Olhares sobre a História. Estudos oferecidos a Iria Gonçalves. Lisboa: Caleidoscópio, 2009. 19. Com este enfoque de estudo realizaram-se diversos encontros científicos de que resultaram as obras, Gonçalves, Iria, coord. Paisagens rurais e urbanas. Fontes, metodologias, problemáticas, Lisboa: Centro de Estudos Históricos da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 2005-2009 e “Paisagens Medievais, 1 e 2”. Media Aetas, Revista de Estudos Medievais, (2005-2006): 2ª série, vols. 1 e 2. Uma síntese desta abordagem se colhe no capítulo de: Costa, Adelaide Millán de; Gonçalves, Iria. “O espaço urbano e o espaço rural”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores: 24-53.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 347 investigação. Referimo-nos, como é fácil de perceber, a José Mattoso que, em 1962, publica o

nglish seu estudo L’Abbaye de Pendorada des origines à 1160 e, em 1968, a sua tese de doutoramento Les

E monastères du diocese de Porto de l’an mille à 1200. in Desde então os estudos sobre casas monásticas masculinas e femininas, filiadas em diversas regras e observâncias, dos beneditinos e cistercienses aos cónegos regrantes de Santo Agostinho, dominicanos, franciscanos, clarissas e, mais recentemente, eremitas, foram-se sucedendo20. Se ubmitted os trabalhos se iniciaram com o conhecimento dos mosteiros masculinos, a partir das décadas S de 80 e 90, sob a influência da abertura ao estudo do papel da mulher, foram as instituições fe- n o t mininas que atraíram muito os investigadores. E se na maioria destes estudos se fica a conhecer o quadro orgânico e administrativo da instituição, bem como o seu património e rendimentos, exts

T não menos, em alguns deles, se descobre a vida da comunidade dos religiosos ou religiosas,

the liderada pelos seus superiores, no seu quotidiano de oração, ofícios litúrgicos e trabalho e na

o f sua convivência interna, como ainda se desvendam as origens familiares dos seus professos e os

laços de afectividade, cumplicidade e poder que se estabelecem com a parentela e a linhagem, dentro e fora da instituição monástica.

riginals Na verdade, como já se verificou muitas vezes, coexistem nas casas monásticas femininas O irmãs, tias, sobrinhas e primas. E algumas dessas mulheres podem mesmo protagonizar uma “maternidade artificial” e uma real “hereditariedade” ao legar cargos e bens às suas descenden- tes, como por exemplo, a passagem do abadessado de uma tia a uma sobrinha. Estas religiosas da mesma parentela melhor se defendem e mais se entreajudam, como não menos suportam, a partir da instituição em que professam, o poder influenciador da sua família, protegendo-a e prestigiando-a no plano material, espiritual, simbólico e cultural. Logo as mulheres nobres deixam de ser só uma riqueza fecundante das linhagens pelo matrimónio para serem também uma riqueza fecundante em religião, sobremaneira a partir do poder que algumas conseguem exercer, ascendendo a abadessas21. Para estas últimas abordagens contribuiu ainda outra linha de investigação lançada por José Mattoso, a da análise da nobreza. Depois da laboriosa, criteriosa e muito operativa edição críti- ca, que levou a cabo, juntamente com Joseph Piel, em 1980, dos Livros Velhos de Linhagens, e do Livro de Linhagens do Conde D. Pedro, este especialista brindou-nos com obras como A nobreza Me- dieval Portuguesa. A família e o Poder, publicada em 198122, e Ricos-Homens, Infanções e Cavaleiros. A nobreza medieval portuguesa nos séculos XI e XII, saída à estampa no ano seguinte23. Com estes trabalhos percebeu-se a hierarquização da mais antiga nobreza condal, nos seus tempos de pujança e decadência, como a ascensão de algumas famílias de infanções, da catego-

20. Como sínteses leiam-se, entre outros, Vilar, Hermínia. “História da Igreja Medieval em Portugal: um percurso possí- vel pelas provas académicas (1995-2000)”. Lusitania Sacra, 13-14 (2001-2002): 569-581; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “O que se vem investigando em História da Igreja em Portugal em tempos medievais”. Medievalismo. Boletin da la Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales, 16 (2006): 205-223; Vilar, Hermínia; Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “The Church and Religious Pratics”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconce- los e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 323-347; Oliveira, Luís Filipe. “The Military Orders”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 425-457. 21. Sobre estas valências do monaquismo feminino, veja-se Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz; Martins, Rui Cunha. “O mo- naquismo feminino cisterciense e a nobreza medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XIV)”. Theologica, 28/2 (1993): 481-506. 22. Mattoso, José. A nobreza Medieval Portuguesa. A família e o Poder. Lisboa: Editorial Estampa, 1981. 23. Mattoso, José. Ricos-Homens, Infanções e Cavaleiros. A nobreza medieval portuguesa nos séculos XI e XII. Lisboa: Guimarães & Cª Editores, 1982.

348 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 ria intermédia da nobreza, ao mais alto patamar social e de poder dos ricos-homens. Mas, em

consentâneo, revelaram-se-nos estruturas de parentesco e de famílias, políticas matrimoniais, n gl is h estratégias de poder, ambientes culturais, alianças de corte e de Igreja, mecanismos de consoli- E in dação e perpetuação de memórias individuais e linhagísticas. Esta corrente de estudos nobiliárquicos, que seduziu muito jovens investigadores no espaço nacional, de Luís Krus em Lisboa24 a Leontina Ventura25 e António Resende26 em Coimbra e a José Augusto Pizarro27 no Porto, para apenas citar alguns dos primeiros, teve e tem largo im- ubm i tted S pacto na compreensibilidade da sociedade medieval e na composição dos grupos sociais. Nomes, no t famílias, parentesco28, mulher, casamento, poesia, cavalaria, paços, vassalos, oficiais, casa e vida senhorial ou de corte, poder e memória, morte e sepultura projectaram-se como algumas das te- e x t s máticas emergentes e redimensionadas à luz de outros conceitos e metodologias da antropologia T

e sociologia, que rasgaram caminhos de interdisciplinaridade e transversalidade de abordagens the

e de saberes. Conheceram-se diversas casas senhoriais, como a de Bragança, a de Vila Real ou o f a do infante D. Henrique, e diversas linhagens, como as dos Coutinho, Melo, Meneses ou Pi- mentéis29, nos seus enredos e trajectórias familiares e nas suas estratégias e percursos políticos30.

Mas, em simultâneo, outros grupos sociais foram aclarados em muitos aspectos da sua vida r i g in al s quotidiana. Assim os judeus, a quem Maria José Ferro Tavares dedicou dois trabalhos funda- O mentais, um para o século XIV e outro para o XV31, que nos remeteram para a estrutura familiar, contexto habitacional e vida de relacionamento entre judeus e entre judeus e cristãos. Também

24. Krus, Luís. A concepção nobiliárquica do espaço ibérico (1280-1380). Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Junta Nacio- nal de Investigação Científica e Tecnológica, 1994. 25. Ventura, Leontina. A nobreza de corte de Afonso III. Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras, 1992. 26. Oliveira, António Resende. Depois do espectáculo trovadoresco: a estrutura dos cancioneiros peninsulares e as recolhas dos século XII a XIV. Lisboa: Edições Colibri, 1994. 27. Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. Linhagens medievais portuguesas: genealogias e estratégias, 1279-1325. Porto: Cen- tro de Estudos de Genealogia, Heràldica e História da Família, Universidade Moderna, 1999. 28. Ventura, Leontina. “A família e o léxico”. História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Ber- nardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2010: 98-125 e Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. “A família. Estruturas de parentesco e casamento”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2010: 126-143. 29. Cunha, Mafalda Soares da. Linhagem, parentesco e poder: a Casa de Bragança (1348-1483). Lisboa: Fundação da Casa de Bragança, 1990; Campos, Nuno Silva de. D. Pedro de Meneses e a construção da Casa de Vila Real (1415-1437). Lisboa: Edições Colibri, 2004; Sousa, João Silva de. A casa senhorial do infante D. Henrique. Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1991; Oliveira, Luís Filipe. A Casa dos Coutinho. Linhagem, espaço e poder (1360-1425). Cascais: Patrimonia, 1999; Cumbre, José Paiva. Os Melo. Origens, trajectórias familiares e percursos políticos. (Séculos XII-XV). Lisboa: Universidade Nova de Lisboa-Facultade de Ciê- cias Sociais e Humanas, 1997; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. Os Pimentéis. Percursos de uma linhagem de nobreza medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XV). Lisboa: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 2000. 30. Um balanço destes estudos sobre a nobreza encontra-se em Mattoso, José; Ventura, Leontina; Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos “The Medieval Portuguese Nobility”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir., Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 401-423. 31. Tavares, Maria José Pimenta Ferro. Os judeus em Portugal no século XIV. Lisboa: Guimarães & Cª Editores, 1979; Ta- vares, Maria José Pimenta Ferro. Os judeus nos século XV. Lisboa: Universidade Nova de Lisboa-Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas, 1982.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 349 pobres, doentes e marginais32 se viram estudados por esta mesma historiadora33 bem como por

nglish Baquero Moreno que analisou marginais, almocreves, viagens, viajantes e peregrinos, para além

E das temáticas do casamento ou da doença34, não sendo esquecidas pelos estudiosos a percepção das in solidariedades assistenciais35. Por isso duas obras de síntese sobre a história de Portugal, saídas nesta década de 80, puderam já contemplar alguns destes contributos historiográficos. José Mattoso, no livroIdentificação de um ubmitted país36, procurando responder à inquietação de perceber como é que “os homens viam o mundo e S se organizavam para tentar dominar a realidade”, apresenta-nos o enquadramento senhorial ou n o t concelhio do trabalho e dos trabalhadores ou do poder e dos poderosos, as estruturas de parentesco e familiares dos homens e a sua mentalidade, cultura, imaginários e sistemas de representação e exts

T memória. Por sua vez Oliveira Marques, continuando os seus gostos e percursos, na sua obra Por- 37 the tugal na Crise dos Séculos XIV e XV abre um capítulo sobre a vida quotidiana para escrever sobre a

o f alimentação, o vestuário, a habitação, a saúde e a higiene, os divertimentos e o afecto nas centúrias

finimedievais.

riginals 3 O

Mas estas fecundas décadas de 80 e 90 da historiografia portuguesa colheram também as in- fluências que lhe vieram do exterior. Desde logo, como já dissemos, o impacto renovador dos 5 volumes, publicados entre 1985 e 1987, da Histoire de la vie Privé, dirigida por Philipe Ariès e Geor- ges Duby, obra de pronto traduzida para português, entre 1989 e 1991, com revisão científica de Armando Luís de Carvalho Homem. E pouco tempo depois, a edição, em 1991-1992, dos 5 volu- mes da Storia delle Donne, dirigidos por Georges Duby e Michelle Perrot, traduzidos para português

32. E sobre esta temática não devemos esquecer os precoces trabalhos apresentados na reunião científica de 1959 “Para o estudo da Peste Negra em Portugal. Congresso Histórico de Portugal Medievo”, que foram publicados em Bracara Au- gusta, 14-15 (1963) (Actas do Congresso Histórico de Portugal Medievo, Braga: Câmara Municipal de Braga, 1963): 210-230 e A pobreza e a assistência aos pobres na Peninsula Iberica durante a Idade Media: actas das 1as. Jornadas Luso-Espanholas de Historia Medieval, Lisboa, 25-30 de setembro de 1972. Lisboa: Instituto de Alta Cultura, 1973, 2 vols. Para um confronto do devir histográfico sobre o assunto, remetemos para a última síntese de Duarte, Luís Miguel. “Marginalidade e marginais”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, coord., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 170-196 e o balanço de estudos de Duarte, Luís Miguel. “When those on the margins took centre stage”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 499-511. 33. Estudos reunidos na obra de Tavares, Maria José Ferro. Pobreza e morte em Portugal na Idade Média. Lisboa: Editorial Presença, 1989. 34. Vejam-se, entre outras obras e estudos, Moreno, Humberto Baquero. Marginalidade e conflitos sociais em Portugal nos séculos XIV e XV. Estudos de História. Lisboa: Editorial Presença, 1985; Moreno, Humberto Baquero.“A acção dos almo- creves no desenvolvimento das comunicações inter-regionais portuguesas nos finais da Idade Média”,O papel das Áreas Regionais na Formação Histórica de Portugal. Actas do Colóquios. Lisboa: Associação Portuguesas de História, 1975: 185-229; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “A importância da almocrevaria no desenvolvimento dos concelhos durante a Idade Média”. Vallis Longus, Actas das Primeiras Jornadas Culturais do Concelho de Valongo, 1 (1985): 15-24; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “O casamento no contexto da sociedade medieval portuguesa”. Bracara Augusta, 33/75-76 (1979): 145-173; Moreno, Humberto Baquero. “As peregrinações a Santiago e as relações entre o Norte de Portugal e a Galiza”, Congresso Internacional dos Caminhos Portugueses de Santigo de Compostela. (Actas). Lisboa: Távola Redonda: 75-83; Baquero, Humberto Moreno. “Exclusão e marginalidade social no Portugal quatrocentista”. Ler História, 33 (1997): 37-51. 35. Entre outros Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “As confrarias medievais portuguesas: espaços de solidariedades na vida e na morte”, Actas da XIX Semana de Estudios Medievales de Estella. Confradías, gremios, solidaridades en la Europa Medieval. Estella: Gobierno de Navarra, 1993: 149-183. 36. Mattoso, José. Identificação de um país. Ensaios sobre as origens de Portugal. 1096-1325. Lisboa: Editorial Estampa, 1985. 37. Marques, Antonio Henrique de Oliveira. Portugal na Crise dos Séculos XIV e XV (Nova História de Portugal). Lisboa: Editorial Presença, 1987.

350 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 entre 1993-1995, com revisão científica de Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho, Irene Maria Vaquinhas,

Leontina Ventura e Guilhermina Mota. n gl is h

Diga-se, porém, que, quanto ao tema do passado das mulheres, os historiadores portugueses es- E in tavam atentos, até porque a Revolução de Abril os desafiava e comprometia. O Instituto de História Económica e Social da Faculdade de Letras de Coimbra levara a cabo, entre 20 e 22 de Março de 1985, um Colóquio sobre A mulher na Sociedade Portuguesa. Visão histórica e perspectivas actuais, tendo os seus dois volumes de Actas sido publicados logo no ano seguinte38. E o Presidente da Comissão ubm i tted S Organizadora, o Doutor António de Oliveira, dizia ao abrir o Colóquio: no t

O historiador é filho do seu tempo e o tempo coevo é de mutação e de confronto ideológico. A historiografia e x t s

contemporânea não podia, por isso, manter-se à margem das reivindicações das mulheres, assumindo uma T atitude de silêncio. Nem tão-pouco podia deixar de atentar num dos resultados da nova história social, a qual the

já havia descoberto a mulher, mas não propriamente a condição feminina, pela via interdisciplinar de outras

ciências humanas e sociais. o f

Neste contexto evocava a convergência da Demografia História, da Sociologia Histórica, da An-

tropologia Social para que através de novos conceitos operatórios, o protagonismo das mulheres no devir r i g in al s histórico deixe (asse) de permanecer oculto e invisível pela eloquência do silêncio39. E na verdade depois des- O tes alarmes internos e externos multiplicaram-se os estudos de história das mulheres e em seguida de história de género, ao longo de todas as épocas, ainda que com uma maior relevância para a época contemporânea. Dos tempos medievais resgataram-se protagonismos individuais de rainhas, infantas, suseranas, diplomatas, de mulheres nobres ou de outros estratos sociais, de mulheres no século ou em religião, de mulheres anónimas no trabalho dos campos ou das cidades, de mulheres que foram esposas, mães e filhas, de mulheres legitimadas pelo casamento ou vivendo em concu- binato ou mancebia, de mulheres de boa ou de má fama40. No desaguar destes estudos, ainda que mesclados com outros contributos historiográficos, che- gou-nos por fim uma tese de doutoramento, defendida em 2004, e publicada três anos depois, sobre A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa41. Estruturada em capítulos muito sugestivamente intitulados Nascer, Crescer, Aprender, Proteger, Adoecer, Morrer e Amar, ela resgata-nos, como já escrevemos, quadros de tempos e espaços que nos remetem para as alegrias de nascimentos in- fantis ou para dolorosas amarguras das suas perdas, para a ambiência natural do crescimento e da educação das crianças, para os rituais de baptismo ou de outros cerimoniais que as protegiam, para sentimentos de amor e afectos familiares ou, mais sombriamente, para as doenças que as atacavam

38. Publicadas em Coimbra, Instituto de História Económica e Social-Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Coimbra, 1986. Aí se encontram, para os tempos medievais, estudos de José Mattoso, Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho, Leontina Ventura, Maria Ângela V. da Rocha Beirante, Amélia Aguiar Andrade, Irene Freire Nunes, António Resende de Olivei- ra, José Geraldes Freire, Maria Alegria Fernandes Marques, Isaías da Rosa Pereira, Salvador Dias Arnaut e Humberto Baquero Moreno. 39. Oliveira, António de. “A presentação”, A Mulher na Sociedade Portuguesa: visão histórica e perspectivas actuais. Coimbra: Instituto de História Económica e Social-Facultade de Letras da Universidade de Coimbra, 1986: 10, 11. 40. Um balanço do protagonismo da mulher em tempos medievais apresentam Oliveira, Ana; Rodrigues, António Rescende de. “A Mulher”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, Mattoso, José dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 300-323. A síntese da produção historiográfica sobre o tema é desenvolvida por Silva, Manuela Santos; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A. “Women’s and Gender History”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 483-497. 41. Oliveira, Ana Rodrigues. A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa. Lisboa: Teorema, 2007.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 351 e que tantas vezes as arrebatavam desta vida terrena42. Percebe-se bem como esta obra é já um 43 nglish ponto de chegada e de confluência de múltiplos estudos sobra a vida quotidiana e a vida privada .

E Mas, a par das mulheres, a composição social medieval continuou a alargar-se em novos mati- in zes e conhecimentos, na historiografia actual. Maria Filomena Barros debruçou-se com profundi- dade, na sua tese de doutoramento, sobre a minoria muçulmana do século XII ao XV, percorrendo o seu processo evolutivo, a sua estrutura e comportamento populacional, as suas comunas, os seus ubmitted bens e actividades económicas, a sua hierarquização social e vectores de sociabilização. Mas estu- S dou os tempos e espaços dos mouros numa abordagem antropológica, pensando as identidades e as n o t alteridades, as etnicidades e as aculturações que atravessaram este grupo social. Tomando como fio condutor do seu trabalho a vontade de saber “se as conotações culturais dos muçulmanos divergem exts 44 T ou, pelo contrário, convergem com as da demais sociedade portuguesa medieval” .

the No Porto, a tese de mestrado de Sérgio Ferreira versou sobre a equação dos preços de muitos

o f bens e matérias-primas e dos salários da população rural e urbana de artesãos e pequenos co-

merciantes, abrindo pistas para alcançar consumos e níveis de vida45. E ainda mais recentemente Arnaldo de Melo46 debruçou-se sobre os mesteres e mesteirais no contexto urbano portuense,

riginals aclarando as formas e modalidades de associação profissional, confraternal, assistencial e política O deste grupo social. Entretanto Luís Miguel Duarte no seu trabalho maior sobre a justiça e a criminalidade, estu- dando a justiça e a lei, o crime e a desordem, o castigo e o perdão, pintou-nos, com toda a solidez, o quadro de sombras do viver social, nos actos e actores individuais e colectivos da violência, da agitação, do alvoroço, dando-nos a perceber os medos de malfeitores, marginais ou bandos, que perturbavam o comum dia a dia do homem medieval47. Como não poderemos esquecer que o significativo avanço e renovado questionamento meto- dológico e interpretativo da história militar, nos tem dado a conhecer, em contextos de um quoti- diano bélico, para além das questões do recrutamento de homens, do equipamento de armas e da cobrança de impostos extraordinários, os problemas do alojamento e abastecimento dos exércitos, a fome e a sede de lugares cercados, o cenário de destruição dos campos e das cidades no rasto da guerra ou até mesmo as crenças e devoções, a ética militar, os comportamentos e a coragem ou o medo dos homens em operações militares48.

42. Leia-se Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Prefácio”, A criança na sociedade medieval portuguesa...: 6. 43. Veja-se ainda a síntese da temática em Oliveira, Ana Rodrigues. “A criança”, História da vida privada em Portugal, A Idade Media. José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2010: 260-299. 44. Barros, Maria Filomena Lopes de. Tempos e espaços de mouros. A minoria muçulmana no reino português. (Séculos XII a XV). Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 2007: 26. Para balanços da produção his- toriográfica portuguesa sobre islamismo, moçárabes e minorias étnico-religiosas consulte-se Fernandes, Hermenegildo; Rei, António. “Islam and Mozarabs”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 547-569; Barros, Maria Filomena Lopes de. “Etho-Religious Minorities”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 571-589. 45. Ferreira, Carlos Sérgio. Preços e salários em Portugal na Baixa idade Média. Porto: Universidade deo Porto (Dissertação de Mestrado), 2007. 46. Melo, Arnaldo Rui Azevedo. O trabalho e a produção em Portugal na Idade Média. O Porto c. 1320-c.1415. Braga: Univer- sidade do Minho, 2009. 47. Duarte, Luís Miguel. Justiça e criminalidade no Portugal Medieval (1459-1480). Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian- Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 1999. 48. Monteiro, João Gouveia. A Guerra em Portugal nos finais da Idade Média. Lisboa: Editorial Notícias, 1998; Martins, Miguel António Gomes. Para Bellum. Organização e Prática da Guerra em Portugal durante a Idade Média (1245-1367). Coim-

352 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 Mas haverá ainda que ter em conta o desenvolvimento de algumas outras temáticas neste âm-

bito da historiografia do quotidiano e também do privado. n gl is h

Destaque-se, desde logo, a história da morte49. Hermínia Vilar apesentou como dissertação de E in mestrado, publicada em 1995, um trabalho sobre A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval. A Estrema- dura Portuguesa (1300 a 1500)50. No seguimento de obras pioneiras, como a de Vovelle, Philipe Ariès, Jacques Chifolleau e Marie-Thérèse Lorcin51 prendeu-se ao estudo profundo das últimas vontades de alguns homens e mulheres de Coimbra, Santarém e Torres Vedras. Tomando os testamentos ubm i tted S como fonte principal, neles procurou desvendar a preocupação com a salvação individual, tradu- no t zida nos ritos de passagem, entrevendo a projecção do Além do homem medieval, ou os cuidados com a sepultura e a perpetuação da memória. Mas não menos, atendendo à repartição das rique- e x t s zas dos testadores, procurou conhecers suassolidariedades materiais e espirituais com familiares, T

amigos, clientelas e servidores, com pobres e doentes, com casas de assistência ou com instituições the

religiosas. o f

E logo um ano depois, José Mattoso reunia na obra O reino dos Mortos na Idade Média Peninsular52 trabalhos da sua autoria e de outros jovens investigadores que aprofundavam o pensamento esca-

tológico medieval e a ritualidade e imaginário da morte, percorrendo outras e variadas fontes, dos r i g in al s sínodos e regras monásticas às crónicas, poesia, e patrística. O E já no século XXI, Maria de Lurdes Rosa retomou este objecto de trabalho na sua tese de dou- toramento sobre a fundação das capelas fúnebres e a afirmação da alma como sujeito de direito53. Todavia, na senda da transversalidade dos saberes, os contributos de arqueológos sobre a ssepultu- ras e ritos de incineração ou inumação ou de antropólogos sobre a paleobiologia têm-nos dado a conhecer múltiplas patologias que desvendam marcas de trabalho, de alimentação, de idade e de acontecimentos da vida ou ritos funerários e crenças no Além54. Por sua vez Mário Barroca, na sua tese de doutoramento, ao estudar a relação entre a epigrafia e a morte através dos epitáfios, que igualmente publica, revela-nos, pelos signos escritos e artísti-

bra: Universidade de Coimbra, 2007; Barata, Manuel Themudo; Teixeira, Nuno Severiano, dirs. Nova História Militar de Portugal, dirs. Manuel Barata, Nuno Teixeira. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2003: I. Para o conhecimento da historiografia sobre a temática leia-se Martins, Miguel; Monteiro, João Gouveia. “The Medieval Military History”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 459-481. 49. Sobre este tema destaquem-se, como bem precoces, os estudos de Martins, Mário. Introdução histórica à vivência do tempo e da morte. Braga: Livraria Cruz, 1969. 50. Vilar, Hermínia. A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval. A Estremadura Portuguesa (1300 a 1500). Redondo: Patrimonia, 1995. 51. Leia-se o contexto historiográfico em que a autora situa a sua obra (Vilar, Hermínia.A vivência da morte no Portugal medieval...: 21-33). 52. Mattoso, José. O reino dos Mortos na Idade Média Peninsular. Lisboa: Edições João Sá da Costa, 1996. 53. Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “As almas herdeiras”, Fundação das capelas fúnebres e afirmação da alma como sujeito de direito (Portugal. 1400-1521). Lisboa: Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas-Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 2005. O tema da morte foi também evocado por Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “A morte e o Além”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, coord., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 402-417. 54. Entre outros leia-se, Barroca, Mário Jorge. Necrópoles e Sepulturas Medievais de Entre Douro e Minho (século V a XV). Porto: Universidade do Porto (Dissertaçao de Maestrado), 1987; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Cenas de passatempo e lamen- tação na escultura funerária medieval portuguesa (séc. XIII a XV)”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras, 2/14 (1997): 657-686; Cunha, Eugénia Maria Quedes Pinto Antunes da. Paleobiologia das populações medievais portuguesas: os casos de Fão e S. João de Almedina. Coimbra: Universidade de Coimbra (tesi de doutoramento), 1994.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 353 cos, a fé de muitos cristãos numa outra vida para além da morte, mas não menos a vontade de se 55 nglish perpetuarem no mundo terreno .

E Em consentâneo os muitos trabalhos dos historiadores de arte, de maior ou menor fôlego, sobre in tumularia, sugerem-nos propostas aliciantes de leitura da gramática plástica plasmada em arcas ferais e jacentes. A descodificação iconográfica de esculturas, pinturas, heráldica, símbolos e signos que nelas se materializam deixa-nos perceber mais profundamente o pensamento escatológico do ubmitted homem medieval, as suas marcas identitárias e individualizadoras de vida e de família e o seu dese- S jo de vencerem o aniquilamento da morte, projectando-se numa memória individual e linhagística n o t para as gerações a haver, pela perenidade dos séculos56. Mais amplamente redimensionou-se o conhecimento da espiritualidade e dos comportamentos exts

T religiosos medievais da clerezia, mas, como maior novidade, também do laicado, e estudaram-se

the ideais e modelos de santidade de homens e mulheres, percepcionando a evolução das mentalidades

o f religiosas ao longo dos séculos. Estas linhas das vivências espirituais e devocionais da sociedade

medieval plasmaram-se no primeiro volume da obra colectiva, saída em 2000, História Religiosa de Portugal e no Dicionário de História Religiosa de Portugal57.

riginals No contraponto também algumas facetas da vida material do dia a dia do homem medieval O tiveram relevantes desenvolvimentos para o que contribuiu uma operatória interdisciplinar con- vocando a metodologia e avanços científicos de diversas ciências sociais e humanas e muito em particular uma maior afirmação da arqueologia medieval. Temática de grande sucesso foi a da alimentação e mesa medievais. Na sequência de um tra- balho pioneiro de Salvador Dias Arnaut, historiadoras como Iria Gonçalves, Maria José Santos e Maria Helena Coelho58, a par de muitos outros estudiosos, escreveram sobre alimentos, do pão ao vinho, da carne ao pescado, dos legumes à fruta, e dieta alimentar medieva, sobre a cozinha e a preparação das refeições, sobre gostos e modas culinárias, sobre livros de receita e de dietética, so- bre o oficialato da cozinha, sobre os enquadramentos rurais ou urbanos da alimentação dos grupos sociais. A mesa desvendou-se, conhecendo-se baixelas e servidores, a par da cerimonialização, da etiqueta e dos rituais da mesa. Discorreu-se sobre as refeições do comum quotidiano ou dos ban- quetes festivos, ou ainda sobre a projecção artística e literária da arte da mesa. Por isso se pôde dar

55. Barroca, Mário Jorge. Epigrafia Medieval Portuguesa (862-1422). Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian-Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia, 2000: I e II; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Memórias”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, coord., José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 418-456. 56. São muitas as obras e artigos sobre tumularia. Uma síntese se apercebe em alguns capítulos dedicados ao assunto em História de Arte Portuguesa, Pereira, Paulo, dir. Lisboa: Temas e Debates, 1995: I, II. 57. Jorge, Ana Maria C. M.; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A., coords. Formação e Limites da Cristandade. Lisboa: Circulo de Leitores, 2000 de História Religiosa de Portugal, dir. Carlos A. Moreira Azevedo. (dir.): I. A espiritualidade medieval é genericamente abordada por Rosa, Maria de Lurdes. “Sagrado, devoções e religiosidade”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores: 376-401. 58. Arnaut, Salvador Dias. A arte de comer em Portugal na Idade Média (Introdução a “O Livro de Cozinha” da Infanta D. Maria de Portugal). Lisboa: Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, 1986; Gonçalves, Iria. “Acerca da alimentação medieval”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa, 4/2 (1978): 441-458; Gonçalves, Iria. “A alimentação”, História da Vida Privada em Portu- gal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 226-259; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. A Alimentação em Portugal na Idade Média. Fontes. Cultura. Sociedade. Coimbra: Universidade de Coimbra, 1997; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. Jantar e cear na corte de D. João III. Coimbra: Centro de História da Socie- dade e da Cultura-Palimage Editores, 2002; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Apontamentos sobre a comida e a bebida do campesinato coimbrão em tempos medievais”, Homens, Espaços e Poderes. Séculos XI-XV. Notas do viver social. Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1990: I, 9-22; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “Ao correr do vinho. Governança e desgovernança dos homens”. Portefólio, 1 (2005): 112-121.

354 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 à estampa, no início da década em que vivemos, a obra colectiva A mesa dos Reis de Portugal59, que

abrange os tempos medievais e modernos e percorre itinerários como a “Casa e ofícios da mesa”, “A n gl is h mesa dos reis. Espaços, Objectos e utências”, “Os reis à mesa: cerimónias e etiquetas”, “Os alimen- E in tos”, “Imagens e representações da mesa”. Mas refira-se, também, que muito se tem acentuado a intercorrência entre os hábitos alimentares e as religiões, perscrutando-se os preceitos alimentares de certas regras monásticas ou os dias gordos e magros, de carne ou pescado, de jejum e abstinência de todos os cristãos, a par dos preceitos alimentares dos crentes muçulmanos e judeus60. ubm i tted S Correlativamente, o espaço habitacional dos nossos antepassados ficou melhor apreendido, no t tendo os historiadores recebido o apoio de arquitectos e arqueólogos. Maria da Conceição Falcão, Sílvio Conde, Luísa Trindade61 oferecem-nos estudos que incidem sobre a construção corrente, so- e x t s bretudo em meios urbanos, desde os seus materiais, dimensões, compartimentação, espacialidade T

ou valor material e de prestígio. Já o historiador de arte José Custódio Vieira da Silva aprofundou the

62 a temática dos paços régios e nobres e igualmente Mário Barroca, com contributos arqueológicos o f muito significativos, se tem dedicado às residências senhoriais, muitas de las fortificadas63. E a par- tir destes trabalhos percebemos melhor como a gente mais simples se acomodaria numa câmara,

dominada pela presença do fogo, a um tempo calor e luz, onde comeriam e dormiriam, enquanto r i g in al s os de maiores posses, habitando em casas sobradadas ou até em paços, disfrutariam de outros re- O quintes de cozinhas em separado até com chaminés, de salas para refeições e de câmaras privadas para dormir e para outros afazeres domésticos e mesmo ainda de espaços específicos de higiene. A par da comida e da casa também as roupas e o vestuário tém continuado a estudar-se, a partir dos conhecimentos dos tecidos, primeiro estudados pelas fontes escritas e hoje em dia também apercebidos graças às ciências e técnicas da conservação e restauro e da pormenorizada reconsti- tuição do traje através da literatura e da pintura64.

59. Buescu, Ana Isabel; Felismino, David, coords. A Mesa dos reis de Portugal. Ofícios, consumos, cerimónias e representações (séculos XIII-XVIII). Lisboa: Temas e Debates-Círculo de Leitores, 2011. 60. Sobre a mesa e os alimentos do século XII ao XVI deparamos com estudos de Rita Costa Gomes, Ana Maria S. A. Rodrigues, Isabel dos Guimarães Sá, Iria Gonçalves, Ana Isabel Buescu, Maria José Palla, Maria Adelaide Miranda e Luís Correia de Sousa. 61. Entre outros, Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. “Habitação popular urbana, no Norte de Portugal Medievo: uma tipologia? Ou um modo de construir?”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 15/1-2 (2001): 381-432; Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. “So- bre a casa urbana do centro e Sul de Portugal nos fins da Idade Média”.Arqueologia Medieval, 5 (1997): 243-265; Conde, Manuel Sílvio Alves. “A Casa”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vascon- celos e Sousa, coord., Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 54-77; Trindade, Luísa. A casa corrente em Coimbra. Dos finais da Idade Média aos inícios da época moderna. Coimbra: Câmara Municipal, 2002. 62. Silva, José Custódio Vieira da Vieira da. Os Paços Medievais Portugueses. Lisboa: Instituto Português do Património Ar- quitectónico, 1995; Silva, José Custódio Vieira da. “O Paço”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 78-97. 63. Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Em torno da residência senhorial fortificada. Quatro torres medievais na região de Amares”. Revista de História, 9 (1989): 9-53; Barroca, Mário Jorge. “Torres, Casas-Torres ou Casas Fortes. A concepção do espaço de habitação da pequena e média nobreza na Baixa Idade Média (séculos XII-XV)”. Revista de História das Ideias, 19 (1997): 39-103. Os avanços da arqueologia medieval portuguesa, nos mais diversos campos, é desenvolvido por Fernandes, Isabel Cristina; Macias, Santiago. “Islamic and Christian Medieval Archaeology”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 153-177. 64. Entre outros, Ferreira, Maria da Conceição Falcão. “Roupas de cama e roupas de corpo nos testamentos de Gui- marães (1250-1300)”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras, 2/14 (1997): 33-63; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz, “Homens e Negócios”, Ócio e Negócio. Coimbra: Inatel, 1998: 127-202; Palla, Maria José. Do essencial e do supérfluo, estudo lexical do traje e adornos em Gil Vicente. Lisboa: Editorial Estampa, 1992; Palla, Maria José. Traje e pintura. Grão Vasco e o retábulo da Sé de Viseu. Lisboa: Editorial Estampa, 1999; Palla, Maria José. Trilogia Vicentina. Léxico do Traje e Adornos no Teatro de Gil Vicente.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 355 Relevantes contributos dos estudos literários e artísticos, mormente na iconografia65, têm per-

nglish mitido ainda renovados avanços na história do corpo, da sexualidade, dos gestos, das culturas e das

E mentalidades em tempos medievais, tendo mesmo José Mattoso leccionado seminários e dirigidos in estudos pós-graduados sobre estas matérias66. Se muito precocemente Mário Martins estudou a sátira, o riso, a paródia, as alegorias e os sím- bolos na literatura medieval, como ainda antes percorrera caminhos de peregrinação e milagres67, ubmitted Luís Krus e outros continuaram a explorar a sátira sexual, o culto das relíquias, a vivência do tem- S po e a representação do espaço68. Igualmente os participantes no encontro sobre o corpo e o gesto n o t na civilização medieval desmultiplicaram as linhas de abordagem destes temas, percorrendo corpos e gestos, fixados em nomes, romances, tratados ou tapeçarias; atentando na sacralidade dos gestos exts

T ou na ritualidade do corpo cadenciado pela música e pela dança; ou captando linguagens, alegorias 69 the e símbolos de corpos, gestos, risos e escárnios na lírica e obras doutrinárias de tempos medievais .

o f Da mesma forma, dando continuidade à marcante História da Cultura em Portugal de António José

Saraiva70, os estudos têm-se diversificado em temas como a poesia trovadoresca, a cronística, os ro- mances de cavalaria, as hagiografias e livros de milagres, os livros de horas, os manuais de confissão,

riginals permitindo reconstituir ambientes culturais palacianos e cortesãos a par de ensinamentos de doutrina O que, pela pregação do clero, chegavam a toda a comunidade dos fiéis, impondo modelos e códigos de crença, devoção e moral, que moldavam os comportamentos sociais e religiosos71.

Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2006; Sequeira, Joana. Produção têxtil em Portugal nos Finais da Idade Média. Porto -Paris: Faculdade de Letras da Universidade do Porto-École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, 2012. 65. Os avanços nestes estudos espelham-se nos catálogos: Miranda, Maria Andelaide; Nascimento, Aires Augusto, coords. A Iluminura em Portugal. Identidade e Influências. Lisboa: Ministério da Cultura-Biblioteca Nacional, 1999; Nas- cimento, Aires Nascimento, coord. A Imagem do Tempo. Livros Manuscritos Ocidentais. Lisboa: Fundação Calouste Gul- benkian, 2000. 66. Como sínteses leiam-se os capítulos de Mattoso, José. “O corpo, a saúde e a doença”, e Oliveira, António. “A sexuali- dade”, both in História da Vida Privada em Portugal. A Idade Média, José Mattoso, ed., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa coord., Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2011: 348-374 e 324-347 respectivamente. 67. Martins, Mário. Peregrinações e Livros de Milagres na nossa Idade Média. Coimbra: Faculdade de Letras, 1951; Martins, Mário. Alegorias, símbolos e exemplos morais da literatura medieval portuguesa. Lisboa: Edições Brotéria, 1975; Martins, Má- rio. A sátira na literatura medieval portuguesa (séculos XIII-XIV). Lisboa: Instituto de Cultura Portuguesa, 1977; Martins, Mário. O riso, o sorriso e a paródia na literatura portuguesa quatrocentista. Lisboa: Instituto de Cultura Portuguesa, 1978. 68. Krus, Luís. “Celeiro e relíquias: o culto quatrocentista dos Mártires de Marrocos”. Studium Generale. Estudios Con- temporâneos do passado medieval. Textos inéditos e publicados. Lisboa: 6 (1984): 21-42; Krus, Luis. “A vivência medieval do tempo”, A construço do passado medieval. Textos inéditos e publicados. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudios Medievais, 2011; Krus, Luís; Pimenta, Berta Martinha; Parres, Leonardo. “Dos aspectos da Satira nos cancioneiros Galaico-portugueses. Sodo- míticos e Cornudas”. Revista da Faculdade de Letras de Lisboa, 4/2 (1978): 113-128. 69. Buescu, Ana Isabel; Sousa, João Silva de; Miranda, Maria Adelaide, coords. O corpo e o gesto na civilização medieval. Lisboa: Edições Colibri, 2006. 70. Saraiva, António José. História da Cultura em Portugal. Lisboa: Jornal do Fôro, 1950-1952. 71. Veja-se o desenvolvimento historiográfico destas temáticas em Amado, Teresa, dir.; Correia, Ângela; Sobral, Cristina; Videira, Graça. “The study of Literary Texts”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 87-109; Ferreira, Manuel Pedro. “Medieval Music in Portugal within its interdisciplinar”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 111-129; Botelho, Maria Leonor. “The study of Medieval Art”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 131-151; Meirinhos, José Francisco. “Intellectual History and the Scholars”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Medievais, 2011: 349-379; Oliveira, António. “Literary and Historiographical Production”, The historiography of medieval Portugal c. 1950-2010, José Mattoso, dir. Maria de Lurdes Rosa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, Maria João Branco, eds. Lisboa: Instituto de Estudos Me-

356 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 Igualmente se têm estudado —e enumeraremos tópicos para não mais nos alongarmos— a an-

troponímia masculina e feminina, decomposta no nome próprio, no patronímico ou nas alcunhas, n gl is h de gente do campo ou da cidade, em que se destacam os estudos de Iria Gonçalves72, como não E in menos se tem atentado nos jogos, nos divertimentos, na festa e na convivialidade73. Mais uma vez fazendo eco de muitos destes enfoques, reuniram-se em 2004 na obra Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval: Imaginário, Representação e Práticas74 vários estudos que, recorrendo a múltiplas fontes —poesia dos Cancioneiros, lírica em louvor da Virgem, documentação avul- ubm i tted S sa, receitas culinárias, iluminuras, brinquedos de cerâmica e esqueletos humanos— e operando no t com metodologias actualizadas mas diversas, iluminaram aspectos concretos do quotidiano ou dos pressupostos ideológicos que o condicionavam. Por eles se apreende, como escreve a prefaciadora e x t s da obra “o ser humano, dividido entre o corpo e o espírito, entre o sagrado e o profano, entre a T

norma e o desvio, entre a representação e a realidade. Aspectos fundamentais como a sexualidade the

e o erotismo, a alimentação e o lazer, a doença, a devoção religiosa são elucidados, mas sempre o f tendo presente que estavam condicionados, nas suas formas e interpretações, pela hierarquia social predominante e pelas concepções em vigor sobre a natureza, o homem e Deus”75.

Assim, na confluência dos estudos portugueses das temáticas do quotidiano e do privado che- r i g in al s gamos, nos nossos dias, ao estudo das biografias. O Biografias de reis, rainhas, infantas e infantes a par de reconstituições de cortes régias em di- versos tempos medievais. Se as biografias de todo e qualquer homem ou mulher com notoriedade social, seja ela de que natureza for, estão na moda, o certo é que a biografia, como género histo- riográfico, arranca com bases científicas sólidas no nosso país neste dealbar do século XXI, como que coroando o impulso e enredo dos vários fios da história que se foram percorrendo nos finais da centúria anterior. E as biografias, narrando o percurso de um homem ou de uma mulher, seja no plano individual, seja no colectivo e social, são um tema de eleição para a convergência das análises

dievais, 2011: 381-398. Lanciani, Giulia; Taviani Giuseppe, coords. Dicionário da Literatura Medieval Galega e Portuguesa. Lisboa: Caminho, 1993. 72. Gonçalves, Iria. “Amostra de antroponímia alentejana do século XV”. Do Tempo e da História, 4 (1971): 173-212; Gonçalves, Iria. “Do uso do patronímico na Baixa Idade Média”, Carlos Alberto Ferreira de Almeida-In Memoriam, Mário Jorge Barroca, coord. Porto: Faculdade de Letras, 1999: I, 347-363; Gonçalves, Iria. “Entre o masculino e o feminino: sistemas de identificação em finais do século XV”,Em Louvor da Linguagem. Homenagem a Maria Leonor Carvalhão Buescu. Maria Fernanda Abreu, Maria Adelina Resina Rodrigues, Maria Leonor Machado de Sousa, dir. Lisboa: Edições Colibri, 2003: 141-158; Gonçalves, Iria. “O corpo e o nome-o nome e o gesto (notas de antroponímia medieval)”, O corpo e o gesto na civilização medieval, Ana Isabel Buescu, João Silva de Sousa, Maria Adelaide Miranda, coords. Lisboa: Edições Colibri, 2006: 39-56; Gonçalves, Iria. “O nome”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir. Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores: 198-225. 73. Campos, Flávio; Mattoso, José, dir. “Yogos e temática lúdica em Portugal no final da Idade Média”,BUCEMA Bulle- tín du Centre d’Études médiévales d’Auxerre, Hors-Série, nº 2, 24 January 2008. 16 December 2014. ; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz.“Festa e Sociabilidade na Idade Média”, Ócio e Negócio. Coimbra: Inatel, 1998: 47-84; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. “A festa- a convivialidade”, História da Vida Privada em Portugal. Idade Média, José Mattoso, dir., Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa, coord. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores: 144-169; Alves, Ana Maria. As entradas régias portuguesas. Uma visão de conjunto. Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1986; Gonçalves, Iria. “As festas do Corpus Christi do Porto na segunda metade do século XV: participação do concelho”. Estudos Medievais, 4-5 (1985): 3-23; Gomes, Rita Cos- ta. “Sobre a festa e o rito na corte medieval”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 9-22; Oliveira, Belmira Fernanda Gonçal- ves de. “Os serões reais na Idade Média”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 121-156; Rodrigues, Ana Maria S.A. “Contri- buto para o estudo das festas na Idade Média Portuguesa”. Cadernos do Noroeste, 9/2 (1996): 103-120; Tavares, Maria José Ferro. “A festa, uma ruptura no quotidiano do homem medieval”. Revista Portuguesa de História, 31/1 (1996): 131-155. 74. Andrade, Amélia Aguiar; Silva, José Custódio Vieira da, coords. Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval: Imaginário, Representação e Práticas, Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 2004. 75. Andrade, Amélia. “Nota Liminar”, Estudos Medievais. Quotidiano Medieval...: 10.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 357 de vida do dia a dia ou dos acontecimentos únicos e irrepetíveis, de tempos comuns ou extraor-

nglish dinários de festa ou de dor, como não menos para a percepção de ambientes e relações íntimas e

E privadas ou de espaços e protagonismos públicos. in Rita Costa Gomes, na sua tese A Corte dos reis de Portugal no final da Idade Média, defendida em 199476, para além de nos fazer conhecer, homens, espaços e serviços cortesãos, deu vida aos usos e cerimonial da corte em tempos de quotidiano, de grandes cerimónias ou de ritos ocasionais. Por ubmitted sua vez Maria Alegria Fernandes Marques e João Soalheiro, ao estudarem a corte dos três primei- S ros reis de Portugal,77 atentaram nos seus familiares e servidores, na sua itinerância e paços, mas, n o t muito especialmente, equacionaram o quadro da mesa do rei e os da moda, distrações e cultura da corte. exts

T De igual modo todos os historiadores que escreveram as biografias dos reis de Portugal da pri- 78 the meira e segunda dinastia, editadas pelo Círculo de Leitores , bem para além da inserção familiar

o f e cortesã dos mesmos, procuraram desvendar linhas de afectividades com os parentes próximos

ou mais longínquos, apreender sentimentos amorosos legítimos ou ilegítimos, descobrir traços de cumplicidade e amizade com vassalos, oficiais e servidores fiéis ou de ódio e vingança com

riginals opositores e inimigos. Muitos deles ilustraram ainda as facetas do seu quotidiano mais itinerante O ou sedentário, em paços, castelos ou mosteiros, acercando-se do serviço de câmara, de mesa e de capela, percebendo os gostos, as modas, as distrações e a cultura da corte, ou deixaram entrever cerimoniais e dias mais festivos de comemorações de feitos militares e políticos, de nascimentos, casamentos ou mortes da família real, de entradas e procissões régias, de actos e mecanismos de propaganda e legitimação da realeza. Todos se debruçaram sobre a morte do rei e alguns sobre as suas doenças físicas ou psicológicas, atentando não menos nas suas últimas vontades testamentá- rias, na sua sepultura e nos actos e vontade de perpetuação da sua memória. Saindo à estampa na mesma colecção a biografia das rainhas e algumas infantas79, ainda mais se aprofundou toda esta carga de sentimentos, não deixando os seus autores e autoras de revelar o papel feminino das biografadas como filhas, esposas ou mães a par do seu múnus próprio de cabeça e modelo de donzelas e donas da corte, de senhoras e suseranas, de agentes de influências e da

76. Gomes, Rita Costa. A Corte do reis de Portugal no final da Idade Média. Lisboa: Difel, 1995. 77. Marques, Maria Alegria; Soalheiro, Joâo, eds. A Corte dos primeiros reis de Portugal. Afonso Henriques, Sancho I, Afonso II. Gijón: Ediciones Trea, 2009. 78. Mattoso, José. D. Afonso Henriques. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Branco, Maria João Violante. D. Sancho I. O filho do Fundador. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Vilar, Hermínia. D. Afonso II. Um rei sem tempo. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Fernandes, Hermenegildo. D. Sancho II. Tragédia. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Ventura, Leontina. D. Afonso III. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Pizarro, José Augusto de Sotto Mayor. D. Dinis. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Sousa, Bernardo Vasconcelos e. D. Afonso IV (1291-1357). Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Pimenta, Cristina. D. Pedro I. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Gomes, Rita Costa. D. Fernando. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. João I, que re-colheu Boa Memória. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Duarte, Luís Miguel. D. Duarte. Requiem por um rei triste. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005; Gomes, Saul António. D. Afonso V. O Africano. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2006; Fonseca, Luís Adão da. D. João II. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2005. 79. Amaral, Luís Carlos; Barroca, Mário Jorge. A condessa-rainha. Teresa. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes; Dias, Nuno Pizarro; Nogueira, Bernardo de Sá; Varandas, José; Oliveira, António Resende de. As primeiras rainhas. Mafalda de Mouriana, Dulce de Barcelona e Aragão, Urraca de Castela, Mecia Lopes de Haro, Beatriz Afonso. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Andrade, Maria Filomena. Rainha Santa, mãe exemplar. Isabel de Aragão. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Menino, Lourenço; Costa, Adelaide Pereira Millán de. A rainha, as infantas e a aia. Beatriz de Castela, Branca de Castela, Constança Manuel, Inês de Castro. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Baleiras, Isabel de Pina. Uma Rainha Inesperada. Leonor Teles. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Silva, Manuela Santos. A rainha inglesa de Portugal. Filipa de Lencastre. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Rodrigues, Ana Maria, S.A. As Tristes Rainhas. Leonor de Aragão. Isabel de Coim- bra. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2012; Sá, Isabel dos Guimarães. De Princesa a Rainha-Velha. Leonor de Lencastre. Lisboa: Círculo de Leitores, 2013.

358 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 diplomacia no concerto político interno e externo, de promotoras de obras sociais e de bem comum

pela prática da caridade e protecção aos mais desvalidos e do apoio às instituições confraternais, n gl is h assistenciais e religiosas. E in E também nas duas colecções mais sintetizadas de biografias de reis, rainhas e infantas, patro- cinadas pela Academia Portuguesa da História, recorrentemente se encontram ecos da vida quoti- diana e privada dos biografados80. Estamos pois, nesta segunda década do século XXI, num ponto de chegada nos estudos da ubm i tted S vida quotidiana e privada, ancorados no desenvolvimento de várias temáticas da historiografia no t medieval portuguesa. Claramente se evidencia que estas facetas de menor notoriedade ou menos visíveis do passado dos homens e das mulheres dos tempos medievais se foram revelando pela e x t s multiplicidade e cruzamento das fontes —das escritas, documentais ou literárias, às arqueológicas T

e artísticas— e pelo aprofundamento e alargamento de horizontes, graças a estudos transversais e the

interdisciplinares que apelaram aos saberes de diversas ciências sociais e humanas como ainda das o f ditas ciências exactas. Não nos parece que o tema esteja esgotado. Se em Portugal a exploração das fontes escritas e artísticas tem sido mais intensa, outros olhares,

questionários e ângulos de abordagem poderão ainda ser perseguidos na sua análise, e as novidades r i g in al s da arqueologia medieval não cessarão, por certo, de nos surpreender. O Talvez seja agora o tempo dos historiadores portugueses passarem também a reflectir sobre os modos e os meios de representar e divulgar estas temáticas históricas, nos livros e manuais dos diversos graus de ensino; de debaterem cientificamente as recriações históricas; ou de questionarem a sua mensagem e adaptação de acordo com os diferentes públicos e meios de comunicação. Os ambientes e conteúdos da vida quotidiana do homem medieval são assuntos apetecíveis e desafiam a curiosidade dos homens do presente. A convocar, por isso, com toda a pertinência e acuidade, ainda um outro e vivo debate e um amplo e inevitável questionamento sobre a escrita da história e a escrita da ficção histórica.

80. As biografias dos reis portugueses da primeira e segunda dinastia estão englobadas na obraHistória dos Reis de Por- tugal. Da fundação à perda da Independência, Manuela Mendoça Pereira, coord. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História- Quidnovi, 2010: I. As biografias das infantas e rainhas saíram pelas mesmas editoras em 2011 e constam das seguintes para a medievalidade: Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. Filipa de Lencastre. A inglesa rainha. 1360-1415. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Coelho, Maria Helena da Cruz. D. Leonor de Portugal. A imperatriz. 1434-1467. Lis- boa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Costa, Paula Maria. D. Maria. A formosíssima. 1313-1357. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Freitas, Isabel Vaz de. D. Isabel de Coimbra. Insígne rainha. 1432-1455. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Freitas, Isabel Vaz de. D. Joana. A excelente senhora. 1462-1530. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes. D. Dulce de Aragão. Rainha fecunda. 1160(?)-1198. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Marques, Maria Alegria Fernandes. D. Matilde, D. Teresa, D. Mafalda e D. Sancha-Primeiras infantas de Portugal, 1149(?)-1296. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da His- tória-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Armando Alberto. D. Beatriz. A princesa rejeitada. 1373-1420. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Armando Alberto. D. Leonor Teles. A flor da altura. 1350-1405. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Maria Odete Sequeira. D. Beatriz. Mulher de ferro. 1429-1506. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Martins, Maria Odete Sequeira. D. Isabel de Portugal. Duquesa de Bor- gonha. 1397-1471. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Mendonça, Manuela. D. Leonor. Fundadora das Misericórdias. 1458-1525. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Pimenta, Maria Cristina. D. Isabel de Trastâmara. A rainha desejada. 1470-1498. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Pimenta, Maria Cristina. D. Joana. Princesa e santa. 1452-1490. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. D. Inês de Castro. Colo de Graça. (?)-1355. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Santos, Maria José Azevedo. D. Isabel de Aragão. Rainha Santa. 1270(?)-1336. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Veloso, Maria Teresa Nobre. D. Urraca e D. Beatriz, Construtoras da paz. 1187-1220. 1244-1303(?). Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Ventura, Margarida Garcez; Araújo, Julieta. D. Leonor de Aragão. A triste rainha. 1402(?)-1445. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011; Vicente, Maria da Graça. D. Filipa. A senhora de Odivelas. 1437-1493. Lisboa: Academia Portuguesa da História-QuidNovi, 2011.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 343-359. ISSN 1888-3931 359 LOS ESTUDIOS MEDIEVALES EN CHILE.

nglish RESEÑA DE SU FORMACION Y PUBLICACIONES E in

Luis Rojas Donat Universidad del Bío Bío ubmitted S n o t

Resumen exts T

the El artículo presenta una reseña de los estudios medievales en Chile, explicando en primer lugar

o f el punto de partida de nuestra posición geográfica muy lejana que condiciona la mirada que se

tiene de los temas europeos. También se precisa la óptica epistemológica con la que se estudian los diversos temas de la historia medieval, combinando la mirada general con la mirada específica.

riginals Se sintetiza la formación de los estudios medievales desde la década de 1950 en la Universidad O de Chile y la diversificación producida a fines de siglo en otras universidades chilenas tanto de Santiago como de provincia. Le sigue la creación de la Sociedad Chilena de Estudios Medievales y finalmente un apéndice bibliográfico de los trabajos publicados por los medievalistas chilenos.

Los estudios medievales en Chile nacieron al alero de un área que en Chile se suele llamar “Historia Universal”, es decir, un área que no se circunscribe solamente a la Historia de Occiden- te, o más exactamente a la “Historia de la Europa occidental”, sino a otras culturas cuyo origen geográfico se aleja de Europa. En las universidades donde se imparten cursos de historia para profesores, la Historia está dividida en tres áreas muy bien definidas: 1ºHistoria Universal, donde se ubican la historia del mundo clásico, medieval, moderno y contemporáneo occidental y oriental, pero también del Medio Oriente y del Lejano Oriente. 2º Historia de América, área que incluye los períodos pre-hispánico, descubrimiento, conquista, colonia, republicano y contemporáneo. Por último, la Historia de Chile, que contempla de igual manera, los mismos períodos que la anterior: pre-hispánico, descubrimiento, conquista, colonia, republicano y contemporáneo. Estos últimos períodos se titulan también como “Chile siglo XIX” y “Chile siglos XX”. No es de extrañar, pues, esta filiación, ya que en Chile laHistoria Medieval ha sido cultivada desde el horizonte más amplio de la historia de la Europa occidental, y desde esta área geográfica se han establecido relaciones con otras civilizaciones. Este horizonte occidental constituye el telón de fondo en el que se inserta la Historia de América y la Historia de Chile. La vinculación arriba señalada recibe su explicación y también su fundamento en el carácter heredero de la cultura de América. Esta misma condición ha llegado a ser Chile, que en la actualidad es una sociedad mestizada desde el punto de vista biológico, sin embargo, predomina en ella la herencia cultural europea, a través de España y, durante el siglo XIX, de Francia. Suele surgir en ambientes extranjeros, especialmente europeos, la pregunta razonable y legí- tima: ¿Por qué estudiar la historia de la Edad Media en América, y más concretamente en Chile, el último rincón del mundo y de Occidente, el finis terrae occidentis? Se trata de mirar el medievo desde fuera de Europa, como fue el propósito de un conjunto de congresos organizados por el Centre d’Études Médiévales d’Auxerre en 2006 (Le moyen âge vu d’ailleurs), es decir, desde nuestra

360 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 perspectiva. Quizás sea ésta nuestra intrínseca debilidad, pero creemos que a partir de ella podemos

descubrir nuestra fortaleza. n gl is h

Le moyen âge vu d’ailleurs, la Edad Media vista desde fuera, desde las antípodas, desde Chile, E in cuyo pasado no guarda relación directa con la Edad Media, sino que nuestra vinculación debe ubicarse en el plano del patrimonio de la cultura y la civilización europea de la cual somos partí- cipes en calidad de herederos. Este es el punto de partida en el que descansan, en último término, las investigaciones que realizamos en Chile, por específicas y particulares que ellas lleguen a ser. ubm i tted S Tenemos la convicción de que la historia medieval, con sus variadas creaciones culturales, nos no t pertenece también. Valga para entender lo anterior, y a modo sólo de ejemplo, citar la importancia que posee el conocimiento del mundo caballeresco medieval para comprender al conquistador e x t s español que llegó a América realizando las empresas de conquista; o, cómo las misiones llevadas T

a cabo entre los pueblos bárbaros en el Occidente de los siglos V y VIII nos ayudan a entender la the

tradición misional en la que se incluyen las misiones de conversión en América; la prolongación o f de las instituciones medievales españolas en el suelo americano ha sido abordado por generaciones de historiadores del derecho. El estudio de la religiosidad americana no puede prescindir de sus

orígenes bajo-medievales. Convicciones como éstas animaron a los pioneros del interés por la Edad r i g in al s Media en Chile: Juan Gómez Millas, que enseñó historia antigua y medieval, a Mario Góngora, O que se ocupó de la Historia de América y Chile, como a Héctor Herrera Cajas, que cultivó la historia propiamente medieval y bizantina. Desde esta orilla nuestra mirada a la historia medieval se parece mucho a aquello que los lati- nos llamaban consideratio, cuya primera acepción es “observar atentamente las estrellas”; tiene este concepto la virtud de indicarnos la acción de examinar, estudiar, en último término, meditar acerca de algo con atención y madurez. Por ello, queremos calificar nuestro punto de vista como “consi- derativo”, una suerte de historia considerativa, pues tendemos a estudiar la parte para meditarla ante el todo, la diversidad en la unidad. Nuestros estudios no quedan nunca circunscritos en el tema mismo, sino que adquieren sentido para nosotros en el amplio contexto de la civilización. Para ilus- trar este punto, permítasenos evocar aquí una figura con la cual nuestro común maestro, Héctor Herrera Cajas, solía presentar esta particular mirada con la cual identificamos nuestra aproxima- ción al mundo medieval: el medievalista —decía— debe situarse ante su objeto de estudio como un agudo espectador lo hace frente a un espléndido tapiz; una primera mirada permitirá apreciar la totalidad de la imagen con su tema, paisajes, personajes y colores. Pero esta primera mirada exige una segunda, en la que el observador deberá acercarse a la tela con la finalidad de examinar con minuciosidad la trama del tejido, la complejidad de sus nudos, la variedad de los diversos hilos de colores que, todos juntos en armónico entramado, componen la totalidad de la obra, de la imagen. Sin embargo, desde esta microscópica observación se pierde de vista el conjunto de la composición, que sólo reaparecerá con una tercera mirada, más distante, que incluye las dos anteriores, y que por lo mismo, es más completa, más acabada, y más ajustada al tapiz mismo. Continuador de esta tradición, el medievalismo chileno estudia problemas específicos tratando de no perder nunca el horizonte universal en el que todo problema histórico, nos parece, alcanza su más genuina expli- cación y comprensión. Es la razón por la cual los temas de nuestros trabajos aparecen presentados de manera más general que la mayoría de los estudios de nuestros vecinos argentinos y brasileños. Las investigaciones en historia medieval en Chile llevan implícita una permanente tensión en- tre la universalidad y la especificidad. Así también, la Edad Media emerge ante nuestros ojos, como un pasado vasto y fecundo de la Europa y el Occidente todo, pero en el que también se enhebran,

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 361 con entrelazadas relaciones, intercambios e influencias, el mundo oriental —representado en el

nglish mundo de las estepas y la gravitación de las grandes civilizaciones del medio oriente, en especial de

E Persia—, el mundo bizantino y la civilización musulmana. in No podemos negar que a causa de nuestra lejanía geográfica se fundan ciertos problemas para el quehacer de un investigador de la Edad Media. Durante años el difícil acceso a bibliografía de última generación, fue superado por la curiosidad afanosa de los maestros antes mencionados, ubmitted a quienes se debieron las primeras colecciones bibliográficas medievales, y a quienes se debe S también la preocupación por adquirir importantes colecciones de fuentes y documentos relati- n o t vos al mundo medieval, como los Monumenta Germaniae Historica, la Patrología griega y latina, la colección Muratori, la Monumenta Henricina, entre otras. Igual preocupación merece para noso- exts

T tros hoy, la participación en congresos internacionales en los que podemos confrontar nuestra

the mirada —nuestro “vu d’ailleurs”—, con esa segunda mirada cercana y minuciosa, a la que hacía-

o f mos alusión, propia de los historiadores europeos. Hoy esta brecha se ha visto reducida por la

facilidad de las comunicaciones de los tiempos que corren. Varios de los jóvenes investigadores están haciendo sus estudios doctorales en Europa: España (universidades de Sevilla, Salamanca,

riginals Alcalá de Henares, Barcelona) y Francia (Universidad de Poitiers) son, en este caso, los países O anfitriones.

1. Formación de los estudios medievales en Chile

No es posible hacer un balance de los estudios medievales en Chile sin antes ubicar el punto de partida de este interés. Se trata de Héctor Herrera Cajas, que hacia la década de los años 50 inicia su enseñanza de Historia Antigua y Medieval en la Instituto Pedagógico de la Universidad de Chile y en el Instituto de Historia de la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, y cuyo entusiasmo y calidad humana traspasó su interés a casi todos los actuales especialistas de la historia antigua, y desde luego, de la historia medieval. Fue muy prolífico en la formación de discípulos, pues era un maestro como pocas veces se encuentra. Cultivó un área casi desconocida hasta entonces en Chile, la historia bizantina, a partir del encuentro con el profesor griego Fotios Malleros, con- tratado por la Universidad de Chile. Habiendo recibido una formación histórica de tendencia institucionalista, su amplia cultura le llevó por otras áreas que marcaron su tarea de investigador: la simbología del poder, las relaciones internacionales del imperio bizantino, las culturas perifé- ricas de la estepa euroasiática, el arte bizantino, campos en los que ha sido pionero en Chile; del ámbito de la Europa occidental, se interesó por la historia alto-medieval francesa y española, en particular el discurso del poder. Su interés por el mundo medieval surgió de su contacto con Mario Góngora del Campo, del que fue su ayudante. No cultivaba éste la historia de Europa a nivel de investigador, porque su predi- lección estaba en la historia de América colonial; pero era hombre muy culto, y estaba al tanto de las novedades historiográficas gracias a sus contactos con historiadores europeos. Primero con la sapiencia de Mario Góngora, pero después con la excepcional formación intelec- tual y el conocimiento de lenguas antiguas y modernas de Héctor Herrera, se desarrollan los estu- dios medievales en Chile. A partir de sus cursos, tanto en Santiago como en Valparaíso, surgirán un grupo de jóvenes investigadores que ocuparán puestos en las universidades del país. Su repentina muerte en 1997, a los 67 años, dejó un vacío difícil de suplir, y con ella se frustró la ocasión para

362 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 que, en la plenitud de su madurez académica, pusiera por escrito toda su sabiduría, especialmente

su pensamiento historiográfico. n gl is h

Entre los discípulos que dejó, y que actualmente ocupan lugares en las universidades del país, E in se han de considerar: Italo Fuentes Bardelli en la Universidad Metropolitana de Ciencias de la Edu- cación (el antiguo Instituto Pedagógico de la Universidad de Chile); Humberto Estay Bermúdez en la Universidad de Concepción (Q.E.P.D.) y sucedido por Luis Rojas Donat allí y en la Universidad del Bío-Bío; José Marín Riveros en la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso y la Pontificia ubm i tted S Universidad Católica de Chile; Paola Corti Badía, Diego Melo Carrasco y Roberto Soto en la Uni- no t versidad Adolfo Ibañez; Patricio Zamora Navia en la Universidad Marítima de Chile y en la Univer- sidad del Mar; Ángel Gordo Molina de la Universidad Gabriela Mistral. Aunque no fue discípula e x t s de Herrera no puede dejar de mencionarse a María Eugenia Góngora Días, hija del mencionado T

historiador, que se ha dedicado a estudiar la literatura medieval y, en particular, la cultura literaria the

femenina con especial acento en la la figura de Hildegard von Bingen. o f

Esta primera generación ha podido transmitir su entusiasmo a una segunda generación de investigadores muy jóvenes que vienen abriéndose paso con sus estudios: Ximena Illanes en la

Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile; José Miguel de Toro en la Universidad Católica de la r i g in al s Santísima Concepción; Claudio Riveros en la Universidad Andrés Bello; Jorge Barros desde la Edu- O cación Media; Amelia Herrera en la Universidad Marítima de Chile, quien de los hijos es la única que sigue los pasos de su padre. Los estudios medievales en Chile se organizaron gracias al llamado lanzado en 1992 por Luis Rojas Donat para el Primer Coloquio de Estudios Medievales celebrado en la Universidad del Bío- Bío en la ciudad de Chillán. En esa ocasión se constituyó la Sociedad Chilena de Estudios Medie- vales teniendo por Presidente Honorario a Héctor Herrera Cajas, Luis Rojas Donat como Presidente y José Marín Riveros como secretario. Desde 2011, la Sociedad se ha reorganizado institucionalmente con una nueva directiva: Pre- sidente Vitalicio: Luis Rojas Donat. Presidente ejecutivo: Italo Fuentes Bardelli, Secretario: Diego Melo Carrasco. La instancia académica sigue siendo el Coloquio que se sigue realizando en la ciudad de Chillán cada dos años. Pero se agregó otra de estilo seminario con mesas redondas sobre temas historiográ- ficos e históricos denominadaConcilium . Actualmente, la Sociedad cuenta con varios medievalistas asociados y una docena de investi- gadores que, aun cuando no consagran sus estudios específicamente a la Edad Media, participan también en los coloquios con temas ligados a áreas conexas.

2. Líneas de Investigación abiertas

En cierto modo, los estudios medievales en Chile obedecen a las condiciones propias del país y de sus integrantes. Desde luego, no existen líneas de investigación claramente definidas que puedan estar asociadas a universidades, escuelas o institutos en los que se cultive con preferencia alguna de ellas. Las explicaciones que surgen inmediatamente a tal situación, las tenemos en la posición de finis terrae de Chile respecto del mundo occidental, en extrema lejanía geográfica de la región donde existieron las condiciones de la Edad Media. Asimismo, es difícil superar la barrera del alejamiento de los archivos donde se encuentran actualmente las fuentes de infor- mación para estudiar el Medievo. Por último, los interesados en cultivar el conocimiento de la

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 363 época medieval se enfrentan a una muralla nada fácil de superar que es el aprendizaje de idiomas

nglish extranjeros, comenzando por el latín, el griego y el árabe y después las principales lenguas habla-

E das en la cultura occidental, herramientos que son indispensables para acceder a la información in pertinente Por tal razón es necesario recordar la sugerencia que el fundador del medievalismo chileno, Dr. Héctor Herrera Cajas, entregó en la década de 1980 a un pequeño grupo de estudiantes del ubmitted Instituto de Historia de la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, en el sentido de que cada S uno de ellos debía dedicarse a estudiar idiomas que les permitiera asumir estudios especializados n o t en un área específica. Hay que decir que entonces este requerimiento era algo sorprendente, pues limitaba como limita todavía hoy la concurrencia de más interesados en cultivar los estudios me- exts

T dievales. El conocimiento de idiomas sigue siendo en Chile una gran limitación para desarrollar en

the general los estudios históricos a buen nivel.

o f Por otra parte, los campos de estudio del medievalismo en Chile se orientaron en algunas

áreas muy claras, dejando sin estudio otras. La suerte del cultivo de aquellas áreas quedó en manos de cada uno de los interesados, sin que todavía puedan encontrarse verdaderas escuelas

riginals a partir de algún profesor, sino más bien iniciativas individuales que los primeros medievalistas O han podido lograr, junto al esmero y la pasión con la cual los pocos discípulos han concebido su tarea de investigadores. No puede dejarse atrás otra razón que explica el devenir de los estudios medievales en Chile, cual es el limitadísimo acceso que todavía existe en las universidades chilenas para lograr un lugar donde continuar las investigaciones que se iniciaron durante su formación de pregrado y post- grado. La primacía de los estudios sobre Chile y América, así como también el imperialismo de la Ciencia Política, también pueden considerarse factores que ponen obstáculos al desarrollo del medievalismo en Chile. La estructura de la universidad chilena, con investigadores que a la vez son docentes con elevada carga lectiva y que no encuentran facilidades para formar grupos especializa- dos, tampoco favorece la investigación en historia medieval. Con todo, se puede referir de manera sucinta algunos desarrollos temático a cargo de algunos medievalistas que han persistido en su vocación, insertos todos en las pocas plazas que la academia permite. Italo Fuentes Bardelli, habiendo sido ayudante durante varios años del maestro Herrera, siguió una línea de estudio tendiente a la cultura popular, el ideal monástico, la figura radiante de Hilde- garda von Bingen, y finalmente la música. En este último campo, Fuentes creó hace más de veinte años un conjunto de música medieval llamado Kalenda Maia que ha sido reconocido en Europa por su calidad y fidelidad. Es el mejor conocedor de la música medieval que tenemos en Chile. Quien redacta estas líneas, sin haber su sido ayudante de Herrera, recibió su enseñanza que marcó finalmente su orientación investigativa. Habiendo comenzado por dedicarse a la Conquis- ta de América, fue derivando en el mundo medieval, precisamente para comprender la cultura de los conquistadores. Quizás derivado de esto, actualmente es el único cultivador del derecho medieval. Los estudios bizantinos han sido abordados por José Marín Riveros, que se formó directamente con Héctor Herrera y a su muerte heredó la cátedra en la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso. Si- guió la línea del bizantinismo que antes había incursionado Herrera, convirtiéndose en el único referente válido en Chile en ese campo de estudio. Emprendiendo temas colaterales, Marín ha estudiado acuciosamente y con gran erudición la ideología de la cruzada.

364 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 Sugerido también por Héctor Herrera, el estudio de mundo árabe lo asumió Diego Melo Car-

rasco, que desde su paso por la formación de pregrado se adentraba tímidamente en los estudios n gl is h de los árabes en España, hasta que su posterior especialización con pleno éxito lo convirtió actual- E in mente en el mejor arabista que tiene Chile. Sus muchísimos trabajos se refieren a los problemas de frontera en el Al-Ándalus. Igualmente, Paola Corti Badia, acogiendo el incentivo intelectual de Herrera en la historia del arte, particularmente, el estudio de las imágenes, siguió cultivando dicha línea artística logrando ubm i tted S alcanzar un excelente nivel con un estudio de varios años sobre semiótica de las imágenes de los no t libros de horas. Actualmente, apoyada en su sólida formación, colabora junto a Fernando Guzmán en el estudio de la heráldica y la iconografía eclesiástica americana. e x t s

La historia del poder ha cultivada también por algunos medievalistas chilenos: Patricio T

Zamora Navia ha incursionado en la antropología del poder a través de la representaciones del the

mismo en la época carolingia. Esta formación le permitió concluir su tesis doctoral ampliando o f esta área para entrar en la vida las cortes virreales de la época moderna. La historia política de la Inglaterra de los Plantagenet y los inicios del parlamentarismo los ha estudiado José Manuel

Cerda Costabal. r i g in al s La historia de la España medieval, en especial el reino de León y su reina Urraca ha sido el tema O de numerosos estudios consagrados por Angel Gordo Molina, que le han valido ser reconocido en España como un medievalista. Un poco más joven, pero con gran proyección, José Miguel de Toro, formado en la cátedra de José Marin, tomó como área de cultivo la España visigoda. Sus estudios doctorales en Poitiers le han permitido abrirse a otras áreas del medievalismo altomedieval. Con este investigador en- tramos ya en una generación más joven, que ha ido incorporando nuevas perspectivas, gracias al trabajo de historiadores como Ximena Illanes, que aborda el estudio de la infancia, a partir sobre todo de la abundante documentación catalana; Virginia Iommi, que se adentra en el enlace entre literatura y ciencia; Sebastián Contreras, que se ha centrado en la incidencia de la filosofía tomista; Rómulo Hidalgo, que ha investigado a los trobadores; o Diego Mundaca, que aborda las mentalidades y el cuerpo como espacio social, con atención al paso del medioevo europeo a la América colonial. El medievalismo chileno da muestras de solidez, porque ha sido capaz de articularse con una sociedad específica, organizar encuentros científicos y gozar de presencia en las universidades con un amplio abanico de especialidades. Pero a la vez adolece de una gran bisoñez, porque pro- piamente la investigación sobre la edad media empezó e Chile hace sólo unas décadas en torno a una sola persona, el Dr. Héctor Herrero Cajas, continuó con la generación por él formada, que se abrió en abanico para tratar que la investigación alcanzara todas las temáticas, y justo ahora está alumbrando una generación más joven. En cualquier caso, una producción científica ha tenido lugar mediante la aportación de un conjunto de obras de investigación. Estas configuran una contribución en si misma nada desdeñable, y han de servir tanto para incitar la incorporació de nuevos investigadores nacionales como para conectar el trabajo investigador con las redes internacionales.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 365 3. Apéndice bibliográfico: bibliografía chilena sobre la Edad Media1 nglish

E 3.1 Bibliografía del fundador del medievalismo chileno, Dr. Héctor Herrera Cajas in

3.1.1 Libros ubmitted El Mundo de Ayer. Manual de Historia Antigua y Medieval para Educación Básica. Santiago de Chile: Edi- S ciones Pedagógicas, 1971 (80 páginas). n o t Las Relaciones Internacionales del Imperio Bizantino durante la Época de las Grandes Invasiones. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones del Centro de Estudios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de exts

T Chile, 1972 (236 páginas).

the Historia Universal. Antigüedad y Edad Media, Historia y Geografía, Primer Año de Educación Media, Héc-

o f tor Herrera, Olga Giagnoni, Eliana Franco. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Pedagógicas Chilenas,

1983 (4ª edición 1988). Antigüedad y Edad Media. Manual de Historia Universal. Santiago de Chile: Academia Superior de

riginals Ciencias Pedagógicas, 1983: I (190 páginas). O Dimensiones de la Responsabilidad Educacional. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 1988 (308 páginas) (Conjunto de artículos publicado entre 1960 y 1987 que abordan temas de cultura, historia y universidad). Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina. Arte, Poder y Legado Histórico. Santiago de Chile: Centro de Estu- dios Bizantinos de la Universidad de Chile-Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 1998 (590 páginas). (publicación póstuma que reúne un conjunto de investigaciones sobre historia bizantina que más abajo se detallan). El Imperio Bizantino. Introducción Histórica y Selección de Documentos. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones del Centro de Estudios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de Chile, 1998 (70 páginas). Orígenes del Arte Bizantino. Ensayo sobre la formación del arte cristiano, eds. José Marín, Paola Cor- ti, Amelia Herrera, Héctor Herrera. Valparaiso: Instituto de Historia, Pontificia Universidad Catolica de Valparaiso, 1985 (190 páginas).

3.1.2 Artículos y capítulos de libros

“El Chou-King y la concepción del poder real”. Clío, 24 (1953): 14-18. “Acerca del Duelo”. Anales de la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, 2 (1955): 83-128. “El significado del escudo en la Germania de Tácito”.Anales de la Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, 4 (1957): 205-222 (Reimpreso en Altheim, Franz. Die Araber in der Alten Welt. Berlin: De Gru- yter, 1966: III; reeditado con adiciones y correcciones: “La Germania de Tácito. El problema del significado del escudo”.Tiempo y Espacio, 5 (1995): 97-111. “Las relaciones internacionales del Imperio Bizantino”, Primera Semana Bizantina. Valparaíso: Uni- versidad Católica de Valparaíso: 1958: 21-38. “El Presente, tiempo de la acción”. Mapocho, 1 (1963): 279-284.

1. Un adelanto de esta producción historiográfica se publicó en: Rojas Donat, Luis; Corti Badia, Paola, ‘Bibliographie chilienne sur le Moyen Âge- 2007’, Bulletin du centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre (BUCEMA), Hors série, 2 (2008), 20 de enero de 2009 Centre d'Études Médiévales Auxerre. 10 de diciembre de 2014 . He aquí que se actualiza esa información a 2012.

366 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 “Engaño y desengaño en la historiografía actual”. Historia, 8 (1969): 235-244.

“Synésios de Cirene. Un crítico del Imperio”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 1 (1970): 108-123. n gl is h

“Dagoberto y Heraclio. Un capítulo de Historia Diplomática”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 2 (1971): 135-151. E in “Res Privata-Res Publica-Imperium”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 1 (1973-1976): 128-136. “San Benito y la formación de Occidente”. El Mercurio, 13 de abril de 1980: E-4. “Bizancio y la formación de Rusia (Los tratados bizantino-rusos del s. X)”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 6 (1982): 13-54, reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 167-220. ubm i tted S “Las estepas euroasiáticas. Un peculiar espacio histórico”, El espacio en las Ciencias. Santiago de no t Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 1982: 159-190, reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 223-262. e x t s

“El sentido de la crisis en Occidente”. Academia, 8 (1983): 47-45. T

“Apelación a la Historia en el ‘De Officiis’ de Cicerón”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 2 (1984): 103- the

123. o f

“Los orígenes del arte bizantino. Ensayo sobre la formación del arte cristiano”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 7-8 (1985): 57-156.

“Aproximación al Espíritu Imperial bizantino”. Revista de Historia Universal, 5 (1986): 37-54, reedi- r i g in al s tado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 265-280. O “Temas de Claudiano”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 3-4 (1986): 187-208. “La Constitución del ámbito cívico en el Mundo Grecorromano”. Historia, 21 (1986): 403-429. “Discurso de inauguración del Centro de Estudios Clásicos”. Limes, 1 (1988): 14-18. “Una utopía medieval: la “Orden Nueva” concebida por Joaquín de Fiore”, Reflexiones sobre Historia, Política y Religión. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Católica de Chile, 1988: 145-164. “El totalitarismo como persistencia de la mentalidad primitiva”. Ideologías y Totalitarismos. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Metropolitana de Ciencias de la Educación, 1988: 13-21. “José Ignacio Víctor Eyzaguirre, Historiador”. Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia, 100 (1989): 15-34. “Los pueblos de las estepas y la formación del arte bizantino. De la tienda a la iglesia cristiana”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 9-10 (1990) (reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 283-302). “Notas sobre el significado de la guerra”.Tiempo y Espacio, 1 (1990): 47-54. “La arquitectura del ‘Discurso sobre la Historia Universal’ de Bossuet”. Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia, 101 (1990): 203-220. “Los estudios superiores en Bizancio”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 11-12 (1990-1992), Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 305-337. “La Espiritualidad Bizantina”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 341-348. “La Doctrina Gelasiana”, Padre Osvaldo Lira. En torno a su pensamiento. Homenaje en sus 90 años. Santia- go de Chile: Editorial Zig-Zag, 1994 (reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 351-366). “La idea imperial bizantina: representación y concentración del poder”. Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 369-374. “La espiritualidad bizantina en el arte”. Bizancio: Arte y Espíritu. Santiago de Chile: Centro de Estu- dios Bizantinos y Neohelénicos de la Universidad de Chile, 1995 (reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 377-392). “Simbología política del poder imperial en Bizancio: los pendientes de las coronas”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 13-15 (1993-1996) (reeditado en Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 395-438).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 367 “Fiestas Imperiales en Constantinopla”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 16 (1997) (reeditado en Dimensiones

nglish de la Cultura Bizantina...: 441-466).

E “Velleius Paterculus, moralista”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 6 (1992): 13-20. in “Príncipe e Imperio en el panegírico de Trajano de Plinio el Joven”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 7-8. Valparaíso: Ediciones Universitarias de Valparaíso, 1996: 277-286. “Cómo leer a Floro”, Semanas de Estudios Romanos, 9 (1998): 15-28. ubmitted “Lo cotidiano, ayer y hoy, aquí y allá”. Limes, 9-10 (1997-1998): 21-26. S “Ética y educación. Una reflexión sobre los valores en nuestra sociedad”.Intus-Legere , 1 (1998): n o t 125-134. “San Benito y el Ordo Romano”. Intus-Legere, 2 (1999): 7-20. exts T

the 3.2 Bibliografia de la Sociedad Chilena de Estudios Medievales o f

3.2.1 Historia de la ciencia

riginals Herrera, Amelia. “Revalorización de la ciencia médica en tiempos de Federico II”, Temas de Historia, O II Jornadas de Historia Universal Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: 223-232.

3.2.2 Espacio y Tiempo

Fuentes, Italo. “Experiencia Desértica y Modelo Urbano en el Antiguo Testamento”. Revista de His- toria Universal, 9 (1988): 41-58. Herrera, Héctor. “Las estepas euroasiáticas: un peculiar espacio histórico”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina...: 223-261. Marín, José. “Espacio Sagrado y Peregrinación. Símbolos y tradición veterotestamentaria”. Tiempo y Espacio, 7-8 (1997-1998): 93-111. Rojas, Luis. “Notas acerca del tiempo en la Edad Media”, Magisterio vital, José Luís Widow, Paola Corti, eds. Santiago: Editorial Universitaria, 2009: 405-420. Rojas, Luis. “Visión antropológica del espacio medieval”. Tiempo y Espacio, 7-8 (1997-1998): 123-143.

3.2.3 Poder y política

Cerda, José Manuel. “El año 1188 y la Historia Parlamentaria de Europa”. Intus Legere: Historia, 2/2 (2008): 27-41. Cerda, José Manuel, ed. El Mundo Medieval: Legado y Alteridad. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Finis Terrae, 2009. Cerda, José Manuel. “Legislación y Justicia en los concilios de Enrique II de Inglaterra (1154- 1189)”. Revista Chilena de Historia del Derecho, 22/2 (2010): 151-170. Cerda, José Manuel. “Una nueva mirada a la génesis parlamentaria en la Europa medieval”, El Porvenir de la Humanidades y las Artes, 2, Diana Arauz, ed. México: Gobierno del estado de Zaca- tecas, 2010.

368 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 Cerda, José Manuel. “Eventos tan grandiosos y memorables. Los cronistas de Enrique II de In-

glaterra y la nueva narrativa histórica del siglo XII, Historia, Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, n gl is h

Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Altazor, 2011. E in Cerda, José Manuel. “La dot gasconne d’Aliénor d’Angleterre: entre royaume de Castille, royaume de France et royaume d’Angleterre”. Cahiers de civilisation médiévale, 54 (2011): 225-242. Cerda, José Manuel. “The great assemblies of Alfonso VIII in Castile (1169-1188)”. Journal of Me- dieval Iberian Studies, 3/1 (2011): 61-77. ubm i tted S Cerda, José Manuel. “Leonor Plantagenet y la consolidación política de Castilla en el reinado de no t Alfonso VIII”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 42/2 (2012): 629-652. Gordo, Ángel. “Relaciones de la Monarquía del Reino de León con la Reforma Espiritual. Cluny, e x t s

Fernando I y Alfonso VI”. Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2004): 71-80. T

Gordo, Ángel. “Una revisión de los Conceptos de Regnum e Imperium en la Historiografía del Reino the

Leonés”. Intus-Legere, 7/1 (2004): 113-121. o f

Gordo, Ángel. “Las intitulaciones y expresiones de la Potestas de la reina Urraca I de León. Trasfon- do y significado de los vocativosRegina e Imperatrix; en la primera mitad del siglo XII”. Intus-

Legere, 9/1 (2006): 77-92. r i g in al s Gordo, Ángel. La Reina Urraca I (1109-1126). La Práctica del concepto de Imperium Legionense en la prime- O ra mitad del siglo XII. Zamora: Instituto de Estudios Zamoranos Florián de Ocampo-Diputación de Zamora (en prensa). Marín, José. “Notas para una reconsideración del concepto de guerra santa”, Atas do III Encontro Internacional de Estudos. Rio de Janeiro: Agora de Ilha, 2001: 431-440. Marín, José. “Bizancio, cruzada y guerra santa”. Tiempo y espacio, 11-12 (2001-2002): 77-101. Marín, José. “La Cuarta Cruzada (1204) Una herida abierta”. Byzantion Nea‑Hellás, 21, (2002): 125-155. Marín, José. “La Cruzada como Guerra Justa”. Intus Legere, 5 (2002): 131-150. Marín, José. Cruzada, Guerra Santa y Yihad. La Edad Media y Nosotros. Viña del Mar: Pontifica Univer- sidad Católica de Valparaiso, 2003 (210 páginas). Marín, José. “Las Cruzadas. Actualidad y perspectivas”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Uni- versal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, 1 (2003): 251-261. Marín, José. “La figura del Príncipe en laMonarchia” . Intus Legere, 7/1 (2004): 89-103. Soaje, Raquel. “La imagen del gobernante ideal según la Historia de Wamba de Julián de Toledo”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, 1 (2003): 141-152. Toro, José Miguel de. “Causa y sentido de las rebeliones nobiliarias ocurridas durante el reinado de Recaredo”. Tiempo y Espacio, 11-12 (2001-2002): 61-76. Toro, José Miguel de. “Sublevaciones visigóticas arrianas en la conversión de Recaredo: ¿Defensa de una fe o aspiraciones al poder?”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia Universal “Héctor He- rrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: I.1, 129-140. Toro, José Miguel de. “Algunos aspectos políticos y religiosos de la rebelión de Hermenegildo”. Intus-Legere, 7/2 (2004): 51-60. Toro, José Miguel de. “El problema de las relaciones entre romanos y visigodos. Encuentros y des- encuentros en una convivencia forzada”. Intus-Legere, 9/1 (2006): 63-75. Zamora, Patricio. “El reino franco en los tiempos carolingios (s. IX). Episcopalización y escenifica- ción como estrategias persuasivas del poder real”. Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2004): 55-69.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 369 Zamora, Patricio. “San Luis, sacralización y santificación del Poder. Los niveles sobrenaturales de la le-

nglish gitimidad real francesa: Discurso-Práctica-Representación”. Temas de Historia. II Jornada de Historia

E Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 2003: 153-163. in Zamora, Patricio. “El rey sagrado, arquetipo político religioso. Concepción y Representación en las fuentes del poder sagrado de la Edad Media (I)”. Intus Legere, 4 (2001): 123-140. ubmitted 3.2.4 Historia del derecho S n o t Rojas, Luis. “La potestad apostólica in spiritualibus en las bulas ultramarinas portuguesas del siglo XV”. Temas Medievales, 15-16 (2007-2008): 111-124. exts

T Rojas, Luis. “La potestad apostólica in temporalibus en las bulas portuguesas y castellanas”. Revista

the Chilena de Historia del Derecho, 22/1 (2010): 625-636.

o f Rojas, Luis. Derecho y Humanismo en el siglo XV. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío,

2010 (267 páginas). Rojas, Luis. “El sistema probatorio medieval de los germanos visto por historiadores alemanes del

riginals derecho del siglo XIX y de comienzos del siglo XX”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 34 O (2012): 483-507. Rojas, Luis. Poner las manos al fuego. Ordalías, duelos y venganzas en la Edad Media. Concepción: Edi- ciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2014 (478 páginas).

3.2.5 Iglesia y monaquismo

Corti, Paola. “La Conversión de San Patricio”. Cuadernos Monásticos, 128 (1999): 61-84. Gordo, Ángel. “Las Ideas Gregorianas sobre el Dominio del Mundo”. Intus-Legere, 6/2 (2003): 51-61. Gordo, Ángel. “En Torno al Concepto de “Reforma Gregoriana”, II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriel Mistral, 2003: 263-270. Gordo, Ángel. “Política y Religión en el reino de León durante el último tercio del Siglo XI. Obispa- dos y casas monásticas durante la instauración de la Reforma Espiritual Romana”. Intus-Legere, 8/1 (2005): 55-69. Gordo, Ángel. “Papado y Monarquía en el Reino de León. Las relaciones político religiosas de Gregorio VII y Alfonso VI en el contexto del Imperium Legionense y de la implantación de la Reforma Pontifical en la Península Ibérica”. Studia Medievalis, 49 (2008): 519-559. Marín, José. “Dos visiones acerca del monasticismo a fines del Mundo Antiguo y comienzos de la Edad Media”. Humanas, 21/1-2 (1998): 458-459. Marín, José. “Rutilio y San Jerónimo de frente al monasticismo”. Teología y Vida, 39/4 (1998): 353-363. Marín, José. “Notas preliminares para una relectura de la Regula Agustini”. Intus Legere, 2 (1999): 31-47. Moreno, Rodrigo. “El monacato cartujano como opción ermitaño-cenobítica en los siglos XI y XII: una visión benedictina”. Intus-Legere, 2 (1999): 81-91. Moreno, Rodrigo. “La liturgia de las Horas en la tradición monástica medieval”. II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriel Mistral, 2003: 233-240. Rojas, Luis. Orígenes históricos del Papado. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2006 (166 páginas).

370 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 Rojas, Luis. “El poder de los papas medievales. Cambios y permanencias”, Cuestiones de Historia

Medieval, vol. 1: el occidente medieval, Gerardo Rodríguez, dir. Buenos Aires: Facultad de Filosofía n gl is h

y Letras de la Universidad Católica Argentina, 2010: 431-467. E in

3.2.6 Mentalidades religiosas

Corti, Paola. “El sentido misional en San Gregorio Magno”. Intus Legere, 2 (1999): 67-80. ubm i tted S Corti, Paola. “El tiempo en las Confesiones de San Agustín”. Intus Legere, 5 (2002): 121-130. no t Fuentes, Italo. “Espacio y Tiempo en la Visión Profética”. Revista Academia, 16-17 (1988): 73-79. Fuentes, Italo. “Los Sentidos del Monje Primitivo”. Iter-Encuentros, 4 (1995): 169-174. e x t s

Fuentes, Italo. “El Espacio y la Risa”. Revista Licantropía, 5 (1996): 20-23. T

Fuentes, Italo. “Visión, Naturaleza e Historia en Hildegard von Bingen”. Cyberhumanitatis, 19 the

(2002): 1-8. o f

Fuentes, Italo. “Música e Historia en Hildegard von Bingen”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 62 (2003): 145-163.

Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Escritura e Imagen Visionaria en el Liber Divinorum Operum de Hildegard r i g in al s de Bingen. Teologia Y Vida, 46/3 (2005): 374-388. O Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Hildegard Von Bingen: Imágenes de la Sabiduría y Tradición Sapiencial”. Teologia Y Vida, 47 (2006): 352-367. Góngora, Maria Eugenia. “Look, Know, Imagine: The Vision of the Source and the Three Maids in Liber Divinorum Operum by Hildegard of Bingen”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 68 (2006): 105-121. Herrera, Héctor. “Una utopía medieval: la “Orden Nueva” concebida por Joaquín de Fiore”, Re- flexiones sobre Historia, Política y Religión. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Católica de Chile, 1988. Herrera, Héctor. “La doctrina gelasiana”, Dimensiones de la Cultura Bizantina, Héctor Herrera, ed. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Gabriela Mistral, 1998: 351-366. Marín, José. “Las Cruzadas como Guerra Santa: un problema historiográfico de definiciones con- ceptuales”. Intus Legere, 4 (2001): 141-158. Riveros, Claudio. “Desarrollo de una teoría de guerra justa y de guerra santa: legitimación del uso de la fuerza en aras de la fe”, Temas de Historia. II Jornadas de Historia Universal “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, 1/1 (2003): 271-284. Riveros, Claudio. “Algunas notas respecto al modelo monacal feudal en tiempos de San Bernardo (1° mitad del siglo XII): la problemática de la vida continente en tiempo de reforma”. Veritas, 12 (2004): 123-145. Riveros, Claudio. “Movimientos canonigales y eremitismo: nuevos modelos espirituales proceden- tes del espíritu de reforma del siglo XII”. Intus Legere, 8/1 (2005): 87-105. Riveros, Claudio. “Un foco del imaginario: el Císter durante la primera mitad del siglo XII”. Tiempo y Espacio, 14 (2005): 81-94. Riveros, Claudio. “La vida monacal en tiempos feudales: el problema de la continencia”, Tiempo y espacio, 18 (2007): 47-59. Rojas, Luis. “Infidelitas, esbozo para la historia de un concepto en los siglos XIV y XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-jurídicos, 11 (1986): 215-241. Rojas, Luis. “El hombre medieval y la guerra”. Tiempo y Espacio, 1 (1990): 19-34.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 371 Rojas, Luis. “Alonso de Cartagena y sus Allegationes: aproximación a una ideología cristiana de la

nglish expansión ultramarina”, Actas del XI Coloquio de Historia canario-americana (1994). Las Palmas de

E Gran Canaria: Ediciones del Cabildo Insular de Gran Canaria, 1994: 3, 5-17. in Rojas, Luis. “La ideología de la cruzada en la España del siglo XV (Actas del II Encontro de Estu- dos Medievais, Universidad Federal de Rio Grande do Sul, Porto Alegre, Brasil)”. Humanas, revista do Instituto de Filosofía e Ciências Humanas da Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul, 21/1 ubmitted (1998): 149-164 (2 vols.). S Rojas, Luis. “El fin del milenio. Una mirada medieval”.Theoria , 8 (1999): 109-115. n o t Rojas, Luis. “Dos informes en derecho del siglo XV sobre las relaciones entre cristianos y sarracenos. Eurocentrismo y alteridad jurídica”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-jurídicos, 30 (2008): 465-481. exts

T Rojas, Luis. Para una meditación de la Edad Media. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío,

the 2009 (436 páginas).

o f Rojas, Luis. “Aproximación a los justos títulos de la expansión ibérica. Proyecciones histórico-ju-

rídicas del pensamiento de Alonso de Cartagena”. Revista de Derecho, 21 (2010-2011): 103-119.

riginals 3.2.7 Historia bizantina O

Marín, José. “Byzantium and the Dark Ages. A Civilization on Trial”. Imago temporis. Medium aevum, 2 (2008): 59-82 y 309-329. Marín, José. “Inocencio III y la Cuarta cruzada”. Intus Legere, 1/2 (2008): 127-137. Marín, José. “Notas acerca de la Rebizantinización del Peloponeso en el siglo IX”, El mundo medie- val. Legado y alteridad, ed. José Manuel Cerda. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae, 2009: 65-88. Marín, José. “Bizancio en Chile. Recordando a Héctor Herrera Cajas (1930-1997), Un Magisterio Vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universi- taria, 2009: 41-48. Marín, José. “Noticias bizantinas en España. El caso de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Temas Medievales, 17 (2009): 37-67. Marín, José. “Bizancio, los eslavos y Europa Oriental”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 28 (2009): 53-67. Marín, José. “Grecia y los eslavos en el Chronicon de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Acta Historica et Archaeo- logica Mediaevalia, 30 (2009-2010): 69-84. Marín, José. “Bizancio en la Crónica Universal de San Isidoro de Sevilla”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 29 (2010): 89-98. Marín, José. La Crónica de Monemvasía. Texto y Contexto. Valparaiso: Instituto de Historia de la Pontificia Universidad Catolica de Valparaiso, 2010 (258 páginas). Marín, José. “Bizancio en el siglo VII: entre historia y profecía. Notas en torno a los sucesos del año 626”. Byzantion Nea Hellás, 30 (2011): 41-73. Marín, José. “Recordando a Justiniano y Teodora”. Red Cultural, 10 (2011): 30-33. Marín, José. “Ana Comneno: época, vida y obra”. Medieval, 45 (2012): 23-31.

3.2.8 Marginación

Illanes, Ximena. “Amores ausentes: el drama de abandonar a un niño en la Barcelona del siglo XV”, Legado y Alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Universidad Finisterrae, 2009.

372 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 Illanes, Ximena. “Las Hermanas de la Providencia: ‘madres vírgenes’ al cuidado de los niños aban-

donados. Siglo XIX”, Historia de las mujeres en Chile, Joaquín Fermandois, Ana María Stuven, n gl is h

eds. Santiago de Chile: Taurus, 2011: 261-290. E in Illanes, Ximena “Aprendiendo a vivir. Trabajo y servicio de niñas y niños acogidos en el Hospital de la Santa Creu de Barcelona (1401-1510)”. HIB Revista Historia Iberoamericana, 6/2 (2013): 63-104. Illanes, Ximena. “Historias entrecruzadas: el período de lactancia de las niñas y niños abandonados y sus nodrizas en el Hospital de Barcelona durante el siglo XV”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, ubm i tted S 43/1 (2013): 159-197. no t Rojas, Luis. “Europa y los otros. Intolerancia y alteridad a fines del medioevo”.Theoria , 9 (2000): 151-168. e x t s T

3.2.9 Devoción the

o f

Corti, Paola. “El lenguaje de las imágenes medievales: hacia un intento de definición”,Un magis- terio vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas, José Marín, Álvaro Pezoa,

José Luis Widow, eds. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universitarias, 2008: 325-351. r i g in al s Corti, Paola. “Memoria, imagen y devoción en libros de horas de los siglos XIV y XV”, El mundo O medieval. Legado y alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae, 2009. Corti, Paola. “La devoción eucarística a fines de la Edad Media: el ejemplo de las Horas del Santí- simo Sacramento en el Libro de Horas de Catherine de Clèves”, Razón y Tradición. Estudios en honor de Juan Antonio Widow, Miguel Ayuso, Álvaro Pezoa, Jose Luis Widow, eds. Santiago de Chile: Globo Editores, 2011: II, 319-340. Corti, Paola. “Les Princesses et leurs livres de dévotion à la fin du Moyen Âge”.La Maison du Moyen Age, 1 de febrero de 2012, Centre d'Études Superieures de Civilisation Médiévale-Médiathêque François-Mitterrand de Poitiers-Service de l'inventaire du Patrimoine culturel de la région Poi- tou-Charentes-Service commun de la documentation de l'Université de Poitiers, 26 de noviem- bre de 2014 . Hildegard de Bingen. El libro de las obras divinas, María Isabel Flisfisch, María Eugenia Góngora, María José Ortúzar, eds. Barcelona: Herder Editorial, 2009. Góngora, María Eugenia. “El corazón inscrito”. Revista Chilena de Literatura, 73 (2008): 217-223. Góngora, María Eugenia. “Persona y mundo en el Liber divinorum operum de Hildegard de Bingen”, El mundo medieval. Legado y alteridad, José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Uni- versiadad Finis Terrae, 2009: 135-153.

3.2.10 Proyecciones medievales en América

Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “El Juicio Final de Parinacota”, “Entre cielos e infiernos”, Memoria del V Encuentro Internacional sobre Barroco. La Paz: Fundación Visión Cultural, 2010: 115-124 (368 páginas). Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “La pintura mural de la Iglesia de Santiago de Curahuara de Carangas como patrón iconográfico de la Iglesia de la Natividad de Parinaco- ta”, “Entre cielos e infiernos”, Memoria del V Encuentro Internacional sobre Barroco. La Paz: Funda- ción Visión Cultural, 2010: 115-124 (368 páginas).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 373 Corti, Paola. “Heráldica e iconografía emblemática de la Iglesia Anglicana Saint-Paul de Valparaí-

nglish so”, Legado Británico en Valparaíso, Michelle Prain, ed. Viña del Mar: RIL Editores-British Cou-

E ncil, 2011: 188-211. in Corti, Paola; Guzmán, Fernando; Pereira, Magdalena. “El Indio Trifronte de Parinacota: un enigma historiográfico”.Colonial Latinamerican Review, 20/3 (2011): 381-400. Rojas, Luis. España y Portugal ante los otros. Concepción: Ediciones Universidad del Bío-Bío, 2002. ubmitted S 3.2.11 Islam Clásico, al-Andalus y frontera n o t

Melo, Diego. “La Primera Embajada Bizantina en Córdoba”. Bizantion Nea Hellas, 19 (2000): 163-186. exts

T Melo, Diego. “Persistencias del Urbanismo musulmán en las Ciudades hispano-árabes”. Archivum,

the 2-3 (2000): 80-87.

o f Melo, Diego. “Un pequeño gran problema de la Historia Medieval: La Revuelta del Arrabal (Rabad)

de Córdoba (818) y la Toma de Creta en el 827”. Notas Histórica y Geográficas, 11 (2001): 141-149. Melo, Diego. “Aportes para la comprensión del mundo musulmán. El concepto de Djihad: estado

riginals de la cuestión y definiciones”.Notas Históricas y Geográficas, 13-14 (2003): 13-19. O Melo, Diego. “Algunas consideraciones en torno del concepto Djihad y su aplicación en época de las Cruzadas”. Intus-Legere, 6/2 (2003): 63-73. Melo, Diego. “Ceremonial y diplomacia en el palacio Califal de Madinat al-Zahra”. Revista Temas de Historia, 1/1 (2003): 241-250. Melo, Diego. “La Yahilliyya: oscuridad y luces en la Arabia pre-islámica”. Intus Legere, 7/1 (2004): 123-139. Melo, Diego. “Notas en torno a los fundamentos jurídicos del Islam: Corán, Sunna y Shari’a. De- finiciones y precisiones conceptuales”.Revista História: Questões & Debates, 41/2 (2004): 57-72. Melo, Diego. “El concepto de Yihad en el Islam Clásico y sus etapas de aplicación”. Temas Medievales, 15 (2005): 157-172. Melo, Diego. “Notas en torno al problema de la Islamofobia”. Si Somos Americanos, 6 (2005): 19-34. Melo, Diego. “Un historiador musulmán: Ibn Jaldún”. Historia: el sentido humano del tiempo, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2005. Melo, Diego. “Algunos aspectos en torno a la guerra del Corán”. Anales de Teología, Universidad de la Santísima Concepción, 8/2 (2006): 45-58. Melo, Diego. “Algunas aproximaciones en relación con el espacio fronterizo entre Castilla y Grana- da (S. XIII-XV): espacio, instituciones, guerra y tregua”. Institucoes, poderes y jurisdicoes, Marcella Lopes Guimaraes, Renan Frighetto, eds. Curitiba: Editorial Juruá, 2007 (202 páginas). Melo, Diego. “Algunos aspectos en relación con el desarrollo jurídico del concepto Yihad en el Oriente islámico medieval y al-Andalus”. Revista Chilena de Derecho, 34/3 (2007): 405-419. Melo, Diego. “El problema político en los albores del islam: la relación entre la religión y la política a partir de dos visiones historiográficas”. Si Somos Americanos, 9/1 (2007): 171-182. Melo, Diego. “El Islam de frente a las Cruzadas: la visión oriental, desde la escisión interna hasta la reunificación de Saladino”.Intus-Legere Historia, 1/2-1 (2007): 131-155. Melo, Diego. “Gloria, sacrificio y martirio en la tradición preislámica y en el Islam clásico”.Revista Tiempo y Espacio, 18 (2007): 65-80. Melo, Diego. “El Islam de frente a las Cruzadas: La Visión Oriental, desde la escisión interna hasta la reunificación de Saladino”.Intus-Legere , 1/2-1 (2007).

374 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 Melo, Diego. “Una aproximación al mundo de Ibn Jaldún: precursor medieval de la historia de

las civilizaciones”. Miradas españolas sobre Ibn Jaldún, José Luis Garrot, José Luis Quesada, eds. n gl is h

Madrid: Ibersaf Editores, 2008: 135-147. E in Melo, Diego. “Dos momentos en un mismo espacio y tiempo: guerra y tregua en la frontera cas- tellano-Granadina (siglos XIII-XV)”, Un Magisterio Vital: Historia, Educación y Cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas, José Luis Widow, Álvaro Pezoa, José Marín, eds. Santiago de Chile: Edito- rial Universitaria, 2008: 15-26. ubm i tted S Melo, Diego. “Características y proyección de las treguas entre Castilla y Granada durante los siglos no t XIII, XIV y XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 30 (2008): 277-287. Melo, Diego. “La importancia de Abraham en el islam”. Intus-Legere, 1 (2009): 51-59. e x t s

Melo, Diego. “Frontera y cautivos en al-Andalus: Inocencio III y el rescate de cautivos”. Intus- T

Legere, 1 (2009): 85-95. the

Melo, Diego. “Cautividad y rescate en la frontera Castellano-Granadina (s. XIII-XV): Entre adali- o f

des, alcaldes, rastreros y redentores”, El Mundo Medieval. Legado y Alteridad. José Manuel Cerda, ed. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones Universidad Finis Terrae, 2009: 107-134.

Melo, Diego. “Paraíso e infierno: el fin de la historia en la perspectiva de un cautivo musulmán”,El r i g in al s Fin de La Historia, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones O Altazor, 2009. Melo, Diego. “Europa y el Islam: Dinámicas de encuentro y desencuentro”, Europa y el Mediterráneo Musulmán. Diego Melo, Fernando Laiseca, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2010: 17-33. Melo, Diego. “Un aspecto de la vida en la frontera castellano-granadina (s. XIII-XV): la acción de rastreros y redentores”. Studi Medievali 52/3-1 (2011): 639-664. Melo, Diego. “Córdoba: la joya que brilló en Occidente”. Cuestiones de Historia Medieval, 1 (2011): 309-326. Melo, Diego. “Pedir ayuda a ‘los otros’: Algunas consideraciones en torno a la primera embajada bizantina en Córdoba (S. IX)”. Estudios de Historia de España, 13 (2011): 37-53. Melo, Diego. “Algunas consideraciones en torno a la frontera, la tregua y libre determinación en la frontera castellano-granadina s. XIII-XV”. Estudios de Historia de España, 14 (2012): 109-102. Melo, Diego, “Las treguas entre Granada y Castilla durante los siglos XIII a XV”. Revista de Estudios Histórico-Jurídicos, 34 (2012). Melo, Diego. “En torno al vasallaje y las parias en las treguas entre Granada y Castilla (siglos XIII- XV): una posibilidad de análisis”. Medievalismo, 22 (2012): 139-152. Melo, Diego. “Sobre el ‘entrar’, ‘vivir’ y ‘salir’ del cautiverio: un aspecto de la vida en la frontera castellano-granadina en los siglos XIII-XV”. Iacobvs, 31-32 (2012): 181-214. Melo, Diego; Vidal, Francisco, eds. A 1300 años de la Conquista de al-Andalus (711-2011). Coquimbo: Editorial Altazor-Centro Mohammed VI para el Diálogo de Civilizaciones, 2012. Melo, Diego; González, Patricio, eds. Diálogos y Diversidad. V Encuentro del Diálogo de Civilizaciones. Coquimbo: Editorial Altazor-Centro Mohammed VI para el Diálogo de Civilizaciones, 2012.

3.2.12 Aspectos teóricos e historiográficos

Marín, José. “Héctor Herrera Cajas”, Un Magisterio Vital: historia, educación y cultura. Homenaje a Héctor Herrera Cajas. Santiago de Chile: Editorial Universitaria, 2009: 17-27.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 375 Marín, José. “Notas acerca de la obra historiográfica isidoriana. Narración y retórica de exaltación

nglish goda en la Crónica Universal”, Historia, Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José

E Luis Widow, eds. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2011: 229-237. in Marín, José. “El prólogo como género específico en obras históricas (siglos IV-VIII)”,Studi medievali, 55/2 (2014): 521-550. Corti, Paola; Rojas, Luis. “Les études médiévales au Chili. Bilan et tendances actuelles”, Le Moyen ubmitted Âge vu d’ailleurs. Histoire, archéologie, art et littérature. Entre l’Europe et l’Amérique latine, Eliana S Magnani, ed. Dijon: Éditions de l’Université de Dijon, 2010. n o t Rojas, Luis. “Notas sobre el concepto mentalidad en la medievística europea”. Intus Legere Historia, 3/2 (2009): 93-106. exts

T Rojas, Luis. “El cristianismo en una obra reciente”. Temas Medievales, 18 (2010): 169-194.

the Rojas, Luis. “La historiografía decimonónica y la figura de Fustel de Coulanges”.Tiempo y Espacio,

o f 24 (2010): 123-128.

Rojas, Luis. “El problema de la trama en el oficio del historiador”,Historia, Memoria y Narración, Paola Corti, Rodrigo Moreno, José Luis Widow. Viña del Mar: Ediciones Altazor, 2011: 213-228. riginals O

376 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 360-376. ISSN 1888-3931 DESPUÉS DEL SIGLO XII: LA GUERRA Y EL ORDENAMIENTO

(O DE LA HISTORIOGRAFÍA Y SUS QUIMERAS) n gl is h E in

Federico devís Universidad de cádiz ubm i tted S no t

Resumen e x t s T

La publicación en 2009 de The Making of Polities, de John Watts, ha vuelto a poner sobre la mesa the

y a reclamar abiertamente la discusión, no sólo sobre la cuestión de la relación de causalidad que o f hoy se da habitualmente por sentada entre guerra y desarrollo de instituciones estatales en los si- glos finales de la Edad Media, una cuestión sobre la cual la historiografía en lengua inglesa reciente

ha producido también otros trabajos de enorme interés, sino acerca igualmente de la pertinencia r i g in al s misma de las categorías estatales para pensar los cambios que, impulsados o no por la guerra, tu- O vieron lugar entonces en el ámbito de las formas de organización política del occidente europeo. Tomando de ahí impulso, este trabajo indaga en el origen y desenvolvimiento historiográfico del modelo estatalista de explicación de dichos cambios para pasar luego a explorar, en especial en relación con la evolución de la idea misma de guerra, la potencialidad al respecto del modelo juris- diccionalista que, mediante una lectura más contextualizada de las fuentes y atenta a su despliegue de largo aliento a partir del siglo XII, viene reconstruyendo la más reciente historiografía jurídica y afín, especialmente la de los países del sur de Europa.1

Genly Ai dijo: Though I had been nearly two years on Winter I was still far from being able to see the people of the planet through their own eyes. I tried to, but my efforts took the form of self-consciously seeing a Gethenian first as a man, then as a woman, forcing him into those categories so irrelevant to his nature and so essential to my own.2 The importance of concepts derives from their relationship to action.3

1. Este trabajo se enmarca en el proyecto de investigación HAR-2009-13225 financiado por el Ministerio de Ciencia e Innovación del Gobierno de España. Una primera versión incompleta del texto que ahora se publica fue objeto de discusión en la reunión sobre Desenvolupaments bèl·lics al segle XII que tuvo lugar en la Universitat Rovira i Virgili en sep- tiembre de 2012. Agradezco a María Bonet Donato, Pere Benito Monclús, Carlos Estepa Díez, Amancio Isla Frez, Carlos Laliena Corbera y Pascual Martínez Sopena, presentes en dicha reunión, las pertinentes observaciones que hicieron a lo entonces expuesto. Ramón Vargas-Machuca Ortega y José Luis Rodríguez Sández, así como dos evaluadores anóni- mos, también son acreedores de mi gratitud por las valiosas sugerencias que realizaron tras la atenta lectura del texto completo, de manera que los errores y deficiencias de éste en su versión definitiva son sólo imputables a la contumacia o a la negligencia del autor. 2. “Durante los cerca de dos años que había estado en Invierno, no fui capaz de ver la gente del planeta a través de sus propios ojos. Lo intenté, pero mis esfuerzos tomaron la forma de autoconsciencia, viendo a un guederiano primero como a un hombre, después como una mujer, forzándole dentro de estas categorías tan irrelevantes para su naturaleza y tan esenciales para mi mismo”. Guin, Ursula K. Le, The Left Hand of Darkness. Nueva York: Ace Books, 1969: cap. 1. 3. La importancia de los conceptos se deriva desde sus relaciones hasta la acción (Richter, Melvine. “Introduction: Trans- lation, the History of Concepts and the History of Political Thought”, Why Concepts Matter: Translating Social and Political Thought, Martin, J. Burke, Melvin Richter eds. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2012: 9).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 377 1. ¿Dinámica estatal o un problema de traducción?

nglish Guerra es “rompimiento de Reynos, o Principes, o comunidades”, podía escribir a principios del

E XVII Sebastián de Covarrubias, a lo que aún añadía —y de ello debía de saber quien además de in renombrado lexicógrafo fuera capellán de rey tan belicoso como Felipe II— que se habla de gue- rrilla, por el contrario, “quando entre particulares ay pendencia, y enemistad formada, que acuden unos a una parte, y otros a otra, pero estas castigan los Principes de las republicas severamente”4. ubmitted Alguien poco avisado, de encontrarse hoy en el lance de glosar conjuntamente ambas definiciones, S tal vez no encontrara impedimento alguno en asumir, dejándose así llevar confiadamente por una n o t falsa familiaridad con el castellano del Siglo de Oro, que particulares en la segunda definición no puede aludir sino a personas o individuos que, como tales, actúan en el ámbito privado y cuyo re- exts

T curso a las armas para saldar sus desavenencias resulta obviamente castigado por quien encarna la

the autoridad pública, única a quien corresponde el uso legítimo de la fuerza armada. Y de esa manera

o f la glosa puede que tampoco se arredre si en vez de reinos, comunidades o repúblicas, y por mor

sólo quizás de ayudar a un más fácil entendimiento de esos conceptos por el lector actual, da por buena su traducción por Estados, pues en plural o en singular ésta es la palabra más habitual que

riginals hoy evoca la idea de autoridad pública, del territorio sobre el que ésta se proyecta y de las materias O que le son propias. La guerra, el rompimiento o desavenencia al que únicamente cabe llamar así con propiedad, sería finalmente, pues, también hacia 1600, un asunto de y entre Estados. A este respecto al menos, el pasado no parece que sea, como se viene repitiendo mucho últimamente, un país extraño.5 En idéntica circunstancia, un historiador profesional, más al cabo de la calle, hará gala sin duda de mayor prudencia a la hora de elegir conceptos. Véase si no uno de los últimos volúmenes publicados de una de las colecciones de referencia de la historia académica, la francesa “Nouvelle Clio”, justamente un volumen dedicado al siglo en que transcurrió mayormente la vida del autor del Tesoro y que presta una muy especial atención además a la Monarquía Hispánica.6 Ciertamente, los Estados comparecen aquí también desde el mismo título de la obra, como sujetos y actores en un escenario a lo que parece de “relaciones internacionales”, de cuyo desenvolvimiento en la de- cimosexta centuria formaron parte de manera muy destacada los conflictos bélicos, hasta el punto de que habría sido precisamente la guerra, se nos dirá en el transcurso del libro, il piu formidabile vettore della crescita dello Stato moderno7. Pero la opción por estos conceptos hace que el autor se sienta obligado a comenzar ofreciendo algunas explicaciones, consciente de que no son tan evidentes e inequívocos como pudieran aparentar. Por un lado, hablar de “relaciones internacionales”, nos dice, puede resultar justificadamente anacrónico, pues en el siglo XVIil termine ’nazione’ non ha il senso che acquisirà a partire dal XVIII secolo8 a lo que añade que debe tenerse en cuenta que, si bien su peso será creciente conforme avance la centuria, entonces lo Stato non ha il monopolio delle relazioni

4. Covarrubias, Sebastián de. Tesoro de la lengua castellana, o española. Madrid: Luis Sánchez impresor, 1611: 455r. . 5. Un tema sobre el que resulta inexcusable la reflexión de Chittolini, Giorgio. “Un paese lontano”.Società e storia, 26 (2003): 331-354. 6. Tallon, Alain. L’Europe au XVIe siècle: États et relations internationales. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 2010, que utilizo aquí, por tenerla más a mano, en traducción italiana: L’Europa del Cinquecento: Stati e relazioni internazionali. Roma: Carocci, 2013. 7. “el más formidable vector del desarrollo del Estado moderno”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 157. 8. “el término ‘nación’ no tiene el sentido que adquirirá a partir del siglo XVIII”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 17.

378 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 diplomatiche9. Y por otro lado, en cuanto a la realidad que se quiere dar a entender con la palabra

Estado, siempre escrita con mayúscula, ya puede ser revelador de las dificultades que suscita su n gl is h aprehensión el hecho de que el epígrafe utilizado para titular de forma idéntica dos capítulos del E in libro, uno dedicado a las técnicas de gobierno y otro a las ideas y prácticas políticas, consista en re- cuperar la vieja pregunta que formulara Federico Chabod hace más de cincuenta años: “¿Existe un Estado del Renacimiento?”. Forma interrogativa empleada asimismo en el epígrafe que encabeza uno de los apartados en que aparece organizada la bibliografía del volumen: “¿Génesis del Estado ubm i tted S moderno?”. Piensa el autor, en efecto, que la riflessione sullo Stato del Rinascimento sembra essere giunta no t a una forma di aporia storiografica10 y que, en cualquier caso, no cabe permanecer en el paradigma sugerido por el último epígrafe citado, que ha sido la clave de lectura dominante en las últimas e x t s décadas al tiempo que objeto de intensos debates. “De estos debates, a veces muy vivos, en torno T

a las nociones de Estado y nación”, viene a concluir nuestro autor, a guisa de explicación de su the

decantamiento, con todo, por una clave estatal, Da questi dibattiti, a volte assai vivace, sulle nozioni di o f

Stato e di nazione / si può tuttavia desumere che il XVI secolo vede una affermazione senza precedenti del potere statale, uno ’Stato-patrimonio’ più che uno Stato-nazione, senza che questa concezione nazionale sia assente 11 o in contraddizione con la prima . Pero, ante tanto rodeo y necesidad de adjetivos para calificar el r i g in al s Estado realmente existente en aquel tiempo, no parece que esté fuera de lugar o carezca de sentido O demandar si el problema no estará más bien en el sustantivo. El problema, si se quiere, es un problema de traducción, como antes sugería, una operación tan necesaria como delicada; de traducción, entiéndase, del lenguaje de las fuentes al lenguaje del historiador, que aun pudiendo ser la misma lengua natural puede también responder en cada caso a fases distintas de su evolución, lo que interpone inevitablemente un filtro entre ambos —un fil- tro cultural entre dos contextos distintos— que no cabe ignorar. En la Introducción de La sociedad feudal, decía Marc Bloch que “las palabras son como monedas muy usadas: a fuerza de circular de mano en mano, pierden su relieve etimológico”12. Y unos años antes, Lucien Febvre, con su beli- gerante elocuencia habitual, reprochaba a Julien Benda haber apelado a una idea supuestamente intemporal, “metafísica”, de nación al utilizar esta palabra en su Esquisse d’une histoire des Français dans leur volonté d’être une nation:

Lo que usted ha hecho es solamente reforzar la tendencia a tomar las palabras más claras hoy para los hombres de hoy como confortables y seguros vehículos con que remontar el curso de los siglos, sin necesidad de cambiar nunca de sitio o de medio de transporte. 13

A pesar de tales advertencias, realizadas en el periodo de entreguerras por dos personalidades enormemente influyentes en el desarrollo posterior de la disciplina histórica durante el siglo XX, no parece que haya sido sino en tiempos más recientes cuando los historiadores han empezado a tomarse

9. “el Estado no tiene el monopolio de las relaciones diplomáticas”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 16. 10. “la reflexión sobre el Estado del Renacimiento parece haber llegado a una especie de aporía historiográfica”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...:. 209. 11. “se puede, no obstante, retener que el siglo XVI ve una afirmación sin precedentes del poder estatal, un ‘Estado-pa- trimonio’ más que un Estado-nación, sin que esta concepción nacional esté ausente o en contradicción con la primera”. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...:. 17. 12. Bloch, Marc. La sociedad feudal. México: Unión Tipográfica Editorial Hispano Americana, 1979: I, 2-3. 13. Febvre, Lucien. Combates por la historia. Barcelona: Ariel, 1970: 129.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 379 en serio y a discutir a fondo sobre los problemas derivados de su condición de “traductores”14. Por el

nglish contrario, durante mucho tiempo y por lo general, han tendido más bien a obviar tal condición, o al

E menos a conducirse en ella, con más o menos conciencia, antes como entusiastas seguidores de Jorge in Luis Borges en su defensa de la “infidelidad creadora” del traductor que como firmes partidarios en este asunto —lo que parecería más de rigor entre quienes tienen por objeto de estudio el cambio de las sociedades en el tiempo— de la actitud de Octavio Paz, quien, abogado de la fidelidad y el respeto ubmitted hacia el texto de origen, salvaguardando así su diferencia, veía en ello la manera en que el traductor S “se obliga a reconocer que el mundo no termina en nosotros y que el hombre es los hombres.”15 n o t De vuelta a lo que aquí nos ocupa, para el conjunto de la “larga Edad Media” de la que ha ha- blado Jacques Le Goff, o incluso, si se prefiere, la “larga Edad moderna” —esto es, el periodo de la exts 16 T historia de Occidente comprendido entre los siglos XII y XVIII— más del gusto de otros aunque

the también una expresión más equívoca, puede predicarse lo que acerca de la cronología tradicional-

o f mente comprendida bajo el rótulo de Edad Media se presenta al día de hoy más pacífico: que no

existe entonces un término equivalente a Estado en la acepción política actual de este, es decir, apenas uno se tome en serio su significado como una forma específica —e histórica, por tanto— de

riginals organización política. Existe, sí, la palabra estado, pero ninguno de sus significados se corresponde O con esa acepción, como fácilmente se comprueba mediante una lectura contextualizada del lema en el léxico de Covarrubias con que comenzamos17. Y existe también entonces un vocabulario político propio de ese tiempo ninguna de cuyas voces resulta sin más, como digo, equivalente. En consecuencia, traducir ese vocabulario cuando la ocasión se presenta recurriendo a categorías estatales es recurrir a lo que en gramática suele llamarse, como se sabe, un falso amigo, así como pasar por alto que, como ha insistido Reinhart Koselleck a lo largo de estas últimas décadas, toda traducción comporta una reconceptualización; o en las propias palabras del historiador alemán: “Toda traducción al propio presente implica una historia conceptual”.18 Por eso hablar de las dificultades que afectaron en el siglo XII al proceso de “State Building” en los principados cristianos de Oriente Próximo, o considerar del mismo modo, o aun como “state- rebuilding”, el progreso de la Reconquista castellano-leonesa por las mismas fechas, por citar dos ejemplos recientes19, resulta cuando menos impreciso y mueve igualmente a confusión. Pero va- yamos hacia adelante y situémonos en los últimos siglos propia y convencionalmente contempla- dos aún como medievales, en relación con los cuales el enfoque de construcción estatal se ofrece más elaborado y es de aceptación más corriente. Hagámoslo, no obstante, con una perspectiva de

14. Adams, Willi Paul. “The Historian as Translator: An Introduction”, The Journal of American History, 85/4 (1999): 1283- 1289; Ghosh, Peter. “Translation as a Conceptual Act”. Max Weber Studies, 2/1 (2001): 59-63; y sobre todo ahora Why Concepts Matter, cit. especialmente en este punto la contribución de Palonen, Kari. “Reinhart Koselleck on Translation, Anachronism and Conceptual Change”: 73-92. 15. Véase al respecto Sáenz, Miguel. Servidumbre y grandeza de la traducción. Madrid: Real Academia Española, 2013, que es el discurso de ingreso del autor en la mencionada institución y de donde tomo las citas. 16. Tallon, Alain. L’Europa del Cinquecento...: 15. 17. Se encontrará un comentario pertinente en Clavero, Bartolomé. Razón de estado, razón de individuo, razón de historia. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1991: 16-21. 18. Koselleck, Reinhart. Historias de conceptos: estudios sobre semántica y pragmática del lenguaje político y social. Madrid: Trotta, 2012: 10. La edición del texto original del que procede la cita data, no obstante, de 1986. 19. Barber, Malcolm. “The Challenge of State Building in the Twelfth Century: the Crusader States in Palestina and Syria”. Reading Medieval Studies, 36 (2010): 7-22; Purkis, William J. “Eleventh-and Twelfth-Century Perspectives of State Building in the Iberian Peninsula”. Reading Medieval Studies, 36 (2010): 57-75. Se trata de un número monográfico de la revista dedicado al tema “Crusading and State Building in the Central Middle Ages”.

380 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 continuidad con respecto a los siglos inmediatamente anteriores, esto es, sin que la “crisis del siglo

XIV” se interponga y nos haga perder de vista los desarrollos en materia de organización política n gl is h que habían tenido lugar antes de la “crisis”, en los siglos XII y XIII, durante el periodo de expan- E in sión y despliegue europeos. Es, justamente, la perspectiva que adopta John Watts en su reciente e importante empeño de rescatar los siglos bajomedievales, en lo que a su historia política se refiere, de su habitual consideración como siglos de transición o de mudanza entre lo “medieval” y lo “moderno”, de su ambiguo o ambivalente tratamiento en torno a ideas de agotamiento y conclu- ubm i tted S sión, por un lado, y de génesis y alumbramiento, por otro20. Y adoptando ese punto de vista sale no t al paso precisamente Watts del relevante papel asignado a la guerra en la narrativa y la imagen corrientes que historiadores tradicionales y menos tradicionales construyen por lo común todavía e x t s hoy de los siglos XIV y XV. Los primeros, echando mano de ella, de la guerra, como un factor más T

cuya frecuencia y ubicuidad contribuyó decisivamente, junto a otras bien conocidas calamidades, the

a proporcionar un carácter más bien sombrío al tramo final de la Edad Media, o al menos a una o f parte del mismo. Los segundos, los historiadores que podemos considerar menos apegados a la célebre y ya pronto centenaria metáfora otoñal, hoy ciertamente mayoritarios, apelando también

a la guerra como la “partera” —la expresión es del propio Watts— del Estado moderno, es decir, r i g in al s como la causa principal —en realidad, la variable explicativa independiente en muchos casos— en O el desenvolvimiento sobre todo de una nueva fiscalidad (una fiscalidad de Estado, se dice) que es- taría en la base de esa nueva realidad institucional, el Estado moderno, cuyo origen o génesis viene así a constituirse en el argumento de fondo, en el hilo conductor último, de la historia política de los últimos siglos medievales. Piensa Watts, sin embargo, que no está justificada esa visión tópica de la Baja Edad Media como una época de mayor conflictividad bélica. Ni por el tamaño de los ejércitos, ni por su duración e in- tensidad, ni por su capacidad destructiva, la guerra experimentó un cambio significativo entonces con respecto al periodo anterior, al menos no antes del inicio de las guerras de Italia a mediados de la última década del siglo XV21. Una generalización exagerada e indebida de la experiencia del reino de Francia, escenario principal de la Guerra de los Cien Años, y la mayor abundancia y riqueza descriptiva de las propias fuentes habrían dado pie a ese error de apreciación.

20. Watts, John. The Making of Polities: Europe 1300-1500. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2009. Lo que se dirá a continuación pretende únicamente hacerse eco del planteamiento de Watts. Para análisis más pormenorizados véase Challet, Vincent. “John Watts, The Making of Polities (Europe, 1300-1500)”. Cahiers de recherches médiévales et humanistes. (2009) [5 septiembre 2010]. Garnier Éditions Classiques. 8 septiembre 2013. ; Lazzarini, Isabella. “Il sistema politico europeo alla fine del medioevo. A proposito di un libro di John Watts”.Storica , 48 (2010): 121-134. 21. Esa fecha sirve también de gozne en la periodización que utiliza Black, Jeremy. War: A Short History. Londres-Nueva York: Continuum, 2009. Contrario a la idea de la existencia de una “revolución militar” en la Europa moderna y parti- dario de que en la historia militar del continente el énfasis debe ser puesto más bien en los elementos de continuidad y evolución lenta y gradual entre los periodos medieval y moderno, estima Black, al tiempo que denuncia la simplicidad con que a veces se ha contemplado el desarrollo y características de la guerra en la Edad Media, que “it is unclear that early-modern warfare was more brutal, in Europe or elsewhere, than its medieval predecessor” (Black, Jeremy. War: A Short History: 71). Por su parte, John France, otro destacado especialista en historia militar, concluye que entre 1300 y 1650 “much progress had been made in adapting to the new gunpowder technology, but European armies remained incoherent, ill-organised and ill-disciplined” (France, John. Perilous Glory: The Rise of Western Military Power. New Haven- Londres: Yale University Press, 2011: 163). Una década antes, este mismo historiador no dejaba de notar el desequilibrio existente entre la enorme atracción que ejercía la historia militar de los dos últimos siglos de la Edad Media y la mucho más parca que suscitaba la del resto del periodo: France, John, “Recent Writing on Medieval Warfare: From the Fall of Rome to c. 1300”. The Journal of Military History, 65/2 (2001): 441-473. Para una extensa discusión sobre continuidad y cambio en la historia militar europea entre los siglos XIV y XVIII véase European Warfare, 1350-1750, ed. Frank Tallet, David J.B. Trim. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2010.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 381 Pero si no más ni muy distintas con respecto a los siglos inmediatamente anteriores, haber gue-

nglish rras las hubo en la Baja Edad Media, claro; aunque tampoco cree Watts que deban ser consideradas

E como “the great motor of later medieval political life”.22 Esas guerras fueron causa tanto como in efecto y consecuencia de los cambios que entonces se produjeron en las formas de organización y en los modos de actuación políticos, que fueron no sólo el resultado, por tanto, de la presión ejerci- da por la guerra, sino factores también del desencadenamiento de ésta. ¿”War made the state, and ubmitted the state made war” como, desde la sociología histórica, resumía en una famosa fórmula Charles S Tilly a mediados de los años 70 del siglo pasado23? No exactamente. Porque la adopción de una n o t perspectiva estatal distorsiona en opinión de Watts la naturaleza de aquellos cambios, iniciados ya en los siglos XII y XIII y para cuya comprensión hoy resulta de poca utilidad, antes bien supone un exts

T lastre, la noción de Estado. Y esto, entre otras razones, porque, aun cuando fuera posible reconocer

the prácticas de poder identificables como estatales, éstas no fueron ni mucho menos las únicas ni la

o f norma, y poner el énfasis en ellas dificulta reconocer “the interaction of a multiplicity of valid and

effective power forms and power types” propia del periodo24. Y, por otro lado, porque el marco in- terpretativo del crecimiento estatal contribuye “surprisingly little”, en realidad, a explicar el curso 25 riginals de los acontecimientos políticos de los siglos XIV y XV. O

2. Historiografía

Desde luego, el enfoque estatal o estatalista no es, ni mucho menos, reciente. Al fin y al cabo, la historia como disciplina académica nació en el siglo XIX de la mano y al servicio del Estado, como un ejercicio, sobre todo, de legitimación suyo. El historiador profesional no fue en origen sino un funcionario, un empleado que tenía a su cargo una función pública que se entendía ahora exclu- siva del Estado. Y herederas de una cultura estatal —en la que también como ciudadanos somos desde entonces educados y socializados—, las sucesivas generaciones de historiadores nos hemos acostumbrado a pensar la política, o lo político, en relación, si no como sinónimo, de lo estatal. La identificación de las acciones o las formas organizativas propias de un determinado ámbito de actuación o experiencia social, que el historiador aísla y etiqueta como la esfera de lo político; la identificación, digo, como “natural” de todo ello y de todo poder político legítimo con lo que es propio del Estado constituye en cierta manera, cabe decir, el “sentido común historiográfico”.26 El planteamiento que vincula guerra, fiscalidad y configuración del Estado tampoco es del todo una novedad de las últimas décadas. Ya en la primera década del siglo XX, Otto Hintze, uno de los padres de la moderna historia constitucional comparada, señaló explícitamente la importancia de

22. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 25. 23. Tilly, Charles. “Reflections on the History of European State-Making”,The Formation of National States in Western Euro- pe, Charles Tilly ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975: 42. Una tentativa reciente de actualización y validación de las tesis de Tilly, asociándolas con la idea de una sucesión de revoluciones militares, en Fortmann, Michel. Les Cycles de Mars: révolutions militaires et édification étatique de la Renaissance a nos jours. París: Economica, 2010. Sobre las controversias generadas por la idea misma de “revolución militar”, poniendo asimismo de manifiesto la relevancia de dicha idea en or- den a la rehabilitación de la historia militar como disciplina durante la segunda mitad del siglo XX, superior en cualquier caso a la que cabe atribuírle en razón de su consistencia intrínseca y de su potencia explicativa, véase Morillo, Stephen; Pavkovic, Michael F. What is Military History?. Cambridge (UK): Polity Press, 2013: 77 siguientes. 24. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 32-33. 25. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 33. 26. Me apropio aquí, claro está, de la expresiva enunciación acuñada por Grendi, Edoardo. “Del senso comune storio- grafico”.Quaderni Storici, 41 (1979): 698-707.

382 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 las relaciones mutuas entre organización militar y organización estatal, subrayando especialmente

la dependencia de esta última de las exigencias derivadas del equilibrio de poder entre Estados, un n gl is h equilibrio garantizado básica si no exclusivamente por la fuerza militar27. Y apenas terminaba la Gran E in Guerra, el economista austriaco Joseph Schumpeter, un clásico hoy de su disciplina y que, a diferencia de otros, nunca descuidó la dimensión histórica de los problemas que abordaba, podía afirmar que taxes not only helped to create the state. They helped to form it. Y esos impuestos habían sido introducidos para atender los crecientes gastos militares de los príncipes europeos desde finales de la Edad Media28. ubm i tted S Vistos hoy con la ventaja del tiempo transcurrido, los trabajos pioneros de Hintze y Schumpeter no t evidencian con claridad cómo se proyectaban en la historiografía, no sólo conceptos, sino también los problemas acuciantes de su tiempo: la construcción estatal del II Reich, en el primer caso, y la e x t s crisis fiscal sobre la que se debatía intensamente en vísperas de la creación de la Primera República T

austriaca, en el segundo. the

La edad de oro de la historia social en las décadas inmediatamente posteriores a la Segunda o f

Guerra Mundial relegó, sin embargo, al Estado del primer plano historiográfico. Obviamente, a esto no fue ajeno el ascendente creciente de los Annales franceses y su rechazo beligerante de la

historia política, una historia política adecuada y a veces deliberadamente caracterizada para con- r i g in al s densar a los ojos de los annalistes todo aquello que servía para identificar al enemigo historiográfico O a batir, al adversario cuya derrota era condición de la propia afirmación. Pero me gustaría llamar la atención sobre el hecho de que esa desaparición o ensombrecimiento del Estado no se circunscri- bió entonces a la disciplina de la historia. Ocurrió también en el conjunto de las llamadas ciencias sociales, las disciplinas hacia las que la historia mostraba justamente en aquellas décadas su mejor disposición a la hora de dialogar —y aun su mayor inclinación a imitar— en detrimento, todo hay que decirlo, de su tradicional proximidad y colaboración con la filología. Fue sólo en los años 70 cuando el Estado volvió al primer plano29. La eclosión de la sociología histórica norteamericana, con su renovado interés por la cuestión de la formación de los Estados nacionales, así como el des- pegue de la Nueva Economía Institucional, también en los EE. UU., cuya hegemonía en el campo de las ciencias sociales no hacía más que reflejar su condición de nueva potencia económica y de poder político preeminente en la escena internacional tras la Segunda Guerra Mundial, constitu- yen dos ejemplos destacados de ese “regreso” del Estado al proscenio historiográfico promovido desde áreas de investigación afines. Y el fenómeno no dejaba de tener que ver con la guerra, con la guerra que se libraba entonces entre los dos bloques en que había quedado dividido el mundo de la posguerra: la Guerra Fría. En Europa, el “marxismo occidental” pareció redescubrir tras el 68 que la lucha de clases habría de resolverse finalmente en la arena política, y ello suscitó una atención renovada también hacia el Estado como tema de investigación. En Norteamérica, consideraciones no menos pragmáticas

27. Hintze, Otto. “Military Organization and the Organization of the State”, The Historical Essays of Otto Hintze, Felix Gilbert, ed. Nueva York: Oxford University Press, 1975: 178-215. Sobre Hintze: Schiera, Pierangelo. Otto Hintze. Nápoles: Guida, 1974. 28. Schumpeter, Joseph. “The Crisis of the Tax State”, The Economics and Sociology of Capitalism, Richard Swedberg, ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991: 99-140, la cita en p. 108. Para el contexto en que Schumpeter elabora ese trabajo, poco antes de asumir por unos meses la cartera de Hacienda en el primer gobierno de la República de Austria: McCraw, Thomas K. Prophet of Innovation: Joseph Schumpeter and Creative Destruction. Boston: Harvard University Press, 2007: 93-103. 29. Skocpol, Theda. “Bringing the State back in: strategies of analysis in current research”, Bringing the State back in, Peter B. Evans, Dietrich Rueschemeyer, Theda Skocpol, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1985: 3-43.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 383 inspiraron ya desde los años 50 lo que se llamó la “teoría de la modernización”30, que, convertida

nglish en doctrina de su política exterior, haría suya la administración estadounidense, muy especialmen-

E te durante los mandatos de Kennedy y de Johnson en los 60, para intentar contrarrestar con su in puesta en práctica el atractivo que pudiera ejercer el comunismo en los países del Tercer Mundo. La “teoría de la modernización” fue una referencia inevitable para las ciencias sociales de aque- llos decenios, con la que tuvieron que lidiar, bien para identificarse, bien para marcar distancias ubmitted con ella. En un escrito autobiográfico, el antropólogo Clifford Geertz recordaba su ubicuidad hasta S entrados los 7031; y en torno a ella se tejió un tupido conglomerado institucional del que las propias n o t universidades formaron parte junto a agencias gubernamentales y fundaciones de empresas priva- das. La academia no parece que fuera precisamente —entonces tampoco— una torre de marfil. La exts

T teoría partía de la distinción entre sociedades tradicionales y modernas, y postulaba la existencia

the de una serie de estadios o etapas mediante los cuales las primeras, las sociedades tradicionales, se

o f convertían en sociedades modernas. Al Estado correspondía un papel relevante en ese desarrollo,

pues the building of an effective centralized national state constituía a necessary condition for take-off 32. Y el fundamento de la teoría se quería encontrar en la propia historia europea, que servía así de modelo

riginals que se pretendía universalizar. O En realidad, lo que “la teoría de la modernización” generaba era una relación especular entre las expectativas que proyectaba voluntariosamente hacia el futuro —el futuro de los países pobres no alineados— y la reconstrucción que hacía del pasado —del pasado de los países que consiguieron hacerse ricos en Occidente—, que inevitablemente tendía de esa forma a modelar este último de acuerdo o bajo la influencia de aquellas expectativas. Lo que se producía era una suerte de “colo- nización” también del pasado propio, de sometimiento de ese pasado al propio presente. Pero, his- toriográficamente hablando, la “teoría de la modernización” ha podido ser considerada una dethe three main schools of Western historical interpretation in the twentieth century33, junto al marxismo y los Annales, hasta tal punto su influjo se dejó notar en la historiografía estadounidense en la segunda mitad del pasado siglo34. Fue en ese clima intelectual en el que se gestó On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State, de Joseph Strayer, una obra cuya primera versión data de 1961 y que se publicó finalmente como el libro que hoy todos conocemos en 197035. Si en Europa la década de los 50 había concluido con “la disolución medieval del Estado”, de la que cumplidamente había levantado acta Giovanni Tabacco reseñando

30. Véase, por todos, Gilman, Nils. Mandarins of the Future: Modernization Theory in Cold War America. Baltimore-Londres: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003. 31. Geertz, Clifford. “An Inconstant Profession: The Anthropological Life in Interesting Times”. Annual Review of Anthropology, 31 (2002): 1-19. 32. Rostow, Walt Whitman. The Stages of Economics Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1960: 7. 33. Appleby, Joyce; Hunt, Lynn; Jacob, Margaret. Telling the Truth about History. Nueva York-Londres: W.W. Norton & Company, 1994: 78. 34. En la historiografía europea de los años 70 también hubo muestras de recepción explícita, como testimonia Wehler, Hans-Ulrich. Teoria de la modernizzazione e storia. Milán: Vita e Pensiero, 1991 (edición original: 1975). 35. Strayer, Joseph. On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970. El libro de Strayer should be understood, no duda en afirmar Bruce Holsinger not“ simply as a contribution to the historiography of medieval political formation, but as a central text in the thriving corpus of modernization theory –one that exemplifies a compelling link between its historical claims and the ideological needs of the moment”. Holsinger, Bruce. “Medievalization Theory: From Tocqueville to the Cold War”. American Literary History, 22/4 (2010): 893-912, la cita en las páginas 896-897. Véase también Cantor, Norman F. Inventing the Middle Ages. Nueva York: William Morrow and Company, 1991: 277-286.

384 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 los trabajos más importantes realizados en torno a la mitad del siglo sobre el periodo poscarolingio36,

la década de los 60 pudo ser testigo de cómo en América se procedía a resucitar la criatura estatal n gl is h sin necesidad de esperar a dar por finalizada la Edad Media, si bien no como realidad acabada, sino E in como algo “moderno” en ciernes. La operación bien podía calificarse de un segundo episodio de la “rebelión de los medievalistas”, tras el primero protagonizado por otro historiador norteamericano, Charles Homer Haskins, al publicar en 1927 The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century37, que retrotraía el arranque de la “modernidad”, pace Burckhardt, a un momento plenamente medieval. ubm i tted S Strayer había sido, ciertamente, alumno y discípulo de Haskins, y sería el más fiel continuador sin no t fisuras de los puntos de vista del maestro, al que se tiene por iniciador del medievalismo profesional norteamericano y con quien Strayer compartía íntegramente the project of making the Middle Ages the e x t s 38 starting point for modern authority and modern liberty . Si con respecto a la libertad, Haskins hizo del T

siglo XII el del nacimiento del “individuo”, con respecto a la autoridad Strayer fechó también en ese the

siglo los primeros balbuceos del Estado. No sé si exagero si digo que Strayer, quien a la vez que ense- o f

ñaba historia medieval en Princeton trabajaba para la CIA, fue la encarnación entre los medievalistas de algo así como “el americano tranquilo” de la novela de Graham Greene39. Su liberalismo elitista y

paternalista prolongaba en cualquier caso, en los años de la Guerra Fría, el ingenuo idealismo liberal r i g in al s que Haskins representó durante el periodo de entreguerras. O On the Medieval Origins of the Modern State y una recopilación de otros trabajos más breves de Stra- yer publicados en 1971, a modo de celebración de su carrera, fueron elogiosamente reseñados en Annales, en 1972, por Bernard Guenée, quien había comenzado a colaborar en la revista unos años antes, una vez que Charles-Edmond Perrin, que fuera protegido de Marc Bloch y director de tesis de Georges Duby, así como este último, que lo hizo en los mismos Annales, saludaran con encomio la publicación de la tesis de Guenée en 196340. En 1972 Guenée acababa de publicar además el vo- lumen de la colección “Nouvelle Clio” sobre “los Estados” bajomedievales que le consagraría como referencia inexcusable al respecto en lo sucesivo41. En el contexto de la historiografía francesa, se trataba del primer intento de rescate de la historia política en clave annaliste, después de la parálisis

36. Tabacco, Giovanni. “La dissoluzione medievale dello stato nella recente storiografia”.Studi medievali, 1/2 (1960): 397-446, recogido luego en Tabacco, Giovanni. Sperimentazioni del potere nell’alto medioevo. Turín: Einaudi, 1993: 245-303. 37. Haskins, Charles Homer. The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century. Cambridge (USA): Harvard University Press, 1927. “La rebelión de los medievalistas” es, como se sabe, el título del último capítulo de la obra clásica de Ferguson, Wallace K. The Renaissance in Historical Thought: Five Centuries of Interpretation. Nueva York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1948. Más recientemente, el motto da pie a un examen de lo que queda de la propuesta de Haskins en la historiografía de las últi- mas décadas en Melve, Leidulf. “’The revolt of the medievalists’. Directions in recent research on the twelfth-century renaissance”. Journal of Medieval History, 32 (2006): 231-252. Véase también al respecto, últimamente, Noble, Thomas F.X. “Introduction”, European Transformations: The Long Twelfth Century, Thomas F.X. Noble, John Van Engen, eds. Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2012: 1-16. 38. Freedman, Paul, Gabrielle M. Spiegel, “Medievalism Old and New: The Rediscovery of Alterity in North American Medieval Studies”. American Historical Review, 103/3 (1998): 677-704: 683. 39. Para su personaje literario, el novelista británico parece que se inspiró en un personaje real, de creciente notoriedad ya en los 50, cuya personalidad y peripecias como agente de los servicios de inteligencia norteamericanos sirven también de hilo conductor al trabajo de reconstrucción histórica de Nashel, Jonathan. Edward Landsdale’s Cold War. Amherst- Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2005. Sobre la vinculación de Strayer con la CIA y las actividades que desa- rrollaba para la Agencia como asesor véase Holsinger, Bruce. “Medievalization Theory...”: 897-899. 40. Guenée, Bernard. “Pouvoir politique et féodalité”. Annales Économies. Sociétés. Civilisations, 27/3 (1972): 690-691; Guenée, Bernard. “Les origines médiévales de l’État moderne”. Annales Économies. Sociétés. Civilisations, 27/3 (1972): 704; Perrin, Charles-Edmond. “Tribunaux et gens de justice dans le bailliage de Senlis à la fin du moyen âge”.Journal des savants (1965): 515-530; Duby, Georges. “Institutions et Société: Une monographie pleine de sève”. Annales. Économies Sociétés Civilisations, 19/4 (1964): 795-798. 41. Guenée, Bernard. L’Occident aux XIVe et XVe siècles: Les États. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 1971.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 385 a que aquélla se había visto condenada a causa de la decidida y combativa apuesta de la revista

nglish por la historia social. Merece la pena citar al propio Guenée, tal como se expresaba en un artículo

E verdaderamente programático de 1964 en el que abogaba por la legitimidad de una historia cen- in trada en la relación entre gobernantes y gobernados aunque, eso sí, anclada en la realidad social:

Cette histoire, il faut la nommer. Histoire administrative, histoire institutionelle, histoire des institutions ne ubmitted conviennent pas. Ce ne sont que des parties du tout qu’on veut définir. Histoire politique conviendrait peut-être,

S mais le mot a été pris dans un sens si étroit, et si moqué, depuis si longtemps, qu’il serait sans doute responsable de fâcheux malentendus. Pourquoi ne pas parler, comme H. Pirenne et M. Bloch ont pu le faire, d’histoire de l’ n o t État? L’expression n’est pas trop usée; elle est bien vague mais n’est pas compromise; elle nécessite une définition mais se prête à toutes les ambitions. En attendant qu’un esprit inventif mette en circulation un nouvel adjectif, exts ou que le mot ’politique’ ait terminé son purgatoire et réintegré le paradis de la vraie histoire, je continuerai T à parler d’histoire de l’État 42 the

o f A principios de la década de los 70, los tiempos parecían ayudar. Ya me he referido antes al

“regreso del Estado” como un fenómeno característico de la década en el campo de las ciencias sociales. Guenée podía agasajar a Strayer desde las propias páginas de Annales y congratularse así

riginals abiertamente de tener un influyente aliado al otro lado del Atlántico. Y el mismísimo Duby, recién O llegado a la Sorbona, sorprendía a propios y extraños aceptando el encargo de Gallimard para escribir Le dimanche de Bouvines, con lo que, no ya a la historia política, sino a la historia-batalla, a la tan denostada historia éveneméntielle, parecía haberle llegado la hora de la rehabilitación43. Tras publicarse el libro de Duby en 1973, la recensión debida a Guenée en las páginas de nuevo de An- nales se encargaba de dejar las cosas en su sitio y despejar equívocos: el acontecimiento, réhabilité et même glorifié, est enraciné dans cette histoire des structures et des mentalités sur laquelle a porté l’essentiel de l’effort de l’école historique française dans les cinquante dernières années.44 Con todo, se puede pensar que, en cierto sentido, Guenée llegaba tarde. No sería en torno a la “historia del Estado”, sino a la del poder, un término aún más vago, impreciso y esquivo, donde se concentraría la mayor capacidad de renovación de la historia política en los siguientes decenios. Y la ocurrencia andaba ya por casa a principios de los 70, publicitándose entonces con la pluma y la firma de quien, desde 1969, era parte ya de la nueva dirección deAnnales : Jacques Le Goff45. Los 70 verían el final de muchas de las certezas que había hecho suyas en las décadas de la posguerra la historia social triunfante, también de las que constituían las señas de identidad o el espíritu de

42. “Esta historia requiere un nombre. Historia administrativa, historia institucional, historia de las instituciones no sirven. No son más que partes de un todo que se quiere definir. Tal vez historia política serviría, pero la voz ha sido entendida en un sentido tan estrecho y convertida en objeto de burla desde hace tanto tiempo que provocaría molestos malentendidos. ¿Por qué no hablar, como H. Pirenne y M. Bloch lo hicieron, de historia del Estado? La expresión no está demasiado gastada; es muy vaga y no compromete; necesita una definición pero se presta a cualquier propósito. A la espera de que un espíritu inventivo ponga en circulación un adjetivo nuevo, o que la palabra “política” haya ter- minado su purgatorio y reingresado en el paraíso de la verdadera historia, continuaré utilizando historia del Estado.” Guenée, Bernard. “L’histoire de l’État en France à la fin du Moyen Age vue par les historiens français depuis cent ans”. Revue historique, 232/2 (1964): 331-360, especialmente 345, luego también en Guenéé, Bernard. Politique et histoire au moyen-âge: recueil d’articles sur l’histoire politique et l’historiographie médiévale (1956-1981). París: Publications de la Sorbon- ne, 1981: 3-32. 43. Véase Duby, Georges. La historia continúa. Madrid: Debate, 1992: 120-127. 44. “rehabilitado e incluso glorificado, está arraigado en esa historia de las estructuras y las mentalidades a la que ha dedicado lo esencial de su esfuerzo la escuela histórica francesa durante los últimos cincuenta años”. Guenée, Bernard. “Le dimanche de Bouvines. 27 juillet 1214”. Annales Économies. Sociétés. Civilisations, 29/6 (1974): 1523-1526. 45. Véase Albaladejo Fernández, Pablo. “La historia política: de una encrucijada a otra”, Balance de la historiografía moder- nista 1973-2001: Actas del VI Coloquio de Metodología Histórica Aplicada (Homenaje al profesor Antonio Eiras Roel). Santiago de Compostela: Xunta de Galicia, 2003: 479-488.

386 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 Annales. Y la década acabaría anunciando el estallido de nuevas propuestas y nuevos caminos que

se produciría en los 80 y que, junto a los viejos y más o menos renovados senderos, conforman n gl is h hasta hoy el frondoso paisaje historiográfico en el que aún nos movemos. E in Fue entonces, en los 80, cuando Jean-Philippe Genet tomó el relevo de Strayer y de Guenée —su director de tesis este último, por lo demás— para seguir proponiendo una consideración de la historia política de los siglos finales de la Edad Media desde una perspectiva estatal, de “génesis del Estado moderno” como ahora se dirá. Esto no significa, naturalmente, que no haya diferencias entre esos ubm i tted S tres historiadores. Basta pensar, justamente, en la distinta consideración que les merece la guerra no t a cada uno de ellos como factor del desarrollo estatal: de freno u obstáculo en el caso de Strayer a estímulo y motor principal en el de Genet, pasando por el escaso énfasis cuando menos que suscita e x t s la cuestión en Guenée. De la mayor complejidad y riqueza de matices del planteamiento de Genêt, T

dio cuenta en apretada síntesis él mismo, ya en la segunda mitad de los 90, haciendo balance de los the

bien conocidos y provechosos programas de investigación que animó, al enumerar las muy diversas o f tradiciones y áreas de estudio que alimentaban y confluían en su proyecto, lo que de paso reflejaba la pluralidad de caminos no dependientes de una vía principal característica de la historiografía de las

dos últimas décadas del siglo XX: la propuesta de Genet era la de une histoire large (comparative et dans le r i g in al s long terme) du politique (l’État), ancrée profondément dans le social et l’èconomique (le féodalisme), étroitement O liée à l’étude des acteurs sociaux (la prosopographie) et à l’histoire culturelle46. Lo que aúna, sin embargo, a Strayer, Guenée y Genet es su común adscripción a una lógica de construcción estatal a la hora de abordar la historia política de los siglos XII en adelante que sigue constituyendo al día de hoy un paradigma dominante, si bien no exento de problemas —y como veremos a continuación, tampoco de alternativas—, como en su reciente libro ha venido a recor- darnos John Watts. Desde luego, el mero uso de la palabra Estado o del sintagma Estado moderno no resulta hoy indicio suficiente de compartir ese paradigma. El vivo debate sobre el asunto en estas últimas décadas, movido en parte por la propuesta de Genet, ha hecho que las cosas sean actualmente algo más complicadas47. Ese debate parece en el presente haberse amortiguado en los términos de cierta generalidad con que se produjo en los 80 y los 90, lo que seguramente favorece un examen de la cuestión menos supeditado con urgencia a aquellos términos, más empírico y circunscrito también. De mayor significación que el uso del sustantivo Estado, solo o acompañado del adjetivo moderno u otros, es la utilización de categorías supuestamente descriptivas y neutras, o de oposiciones cuyo valor se da por sentado como la muy común entre público y privado, lo que revela la presencia de la lógica estatal, unilateral cuando menos, como señala Watts, y que al determinar las preguntas condiciona las respuestas que las fuentes están en condiciones de ofrecer.

3. Cultura política jurisdiccional

En cierto modo, puede sorprender la afirmación de Watts de que —aparte la francesa, claro está— ha sido la historiografía española la más permeable al marco interpretativo centrado en la “génesis del

46. “una historia amplia (comparativa y en el tiempo largo) de lo político (el Estado), anclada profundamente en lo social y lo económico (el feudalismo), estrechamente ligada al estudio de los actores sociales (la prosopografía) y a la historia cultural”. Genet, Jean-Philippe. “La genèse de l’État moderne: Les enjeux d’un programme de recherche”. Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 118 (1997): 3-18, la cita en páginas 10-11. 47. No conozco mejor acercamiento a la trayectoria trazada por la noción de Estado moderno en la historiografía del siglo XX que el que ofrece Benigno, Francesco. Las palabras del tiempo: un ideario para pensar históricamente. Madrid: Cá- tedra, 2013: 199-222.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 387 Estado moderno” propuesto por Genet48. Y la sorpresa obedece a que desde una fecha tan temprana

nglish como 1960 se pueden identificar trabajos relativos o interesantes a los territorios hispánicos que bien

E pudieran haber marcado una orientación distinta y, a la postre, más cercana a la postura que hoy in sostiene el historiador inglés. Pienso en el último trabajo del malogrado Vicens Vives49, o en las “mo- narquías compuestas” del hispanista John Elliot50, por citar dos hitos que prácticamente abrazan toda la segunda mitad del siglo XX. Pero, es verdad, tanto Vicens como Elliot se ocupaban de los siglos XVI y ubmitted XVII; y efectivamente, ha sido precisa y tal vez paradójicamente en la historiografía “modernista” don- S de de forma más evidente y con más brío se han manifestado posiciones críticas o revisionistas frente n o t al paradigma del Estado moderno, su lógica y su arquitectura. De resultas de lo cual, y a propósito del tema de la guerra que aquí nos ocupa, Bartolomé Yun, por ejemplo, puede afirmar en un texto que exts

T recién acaba de ver la luz, que en la Europa moderna ni la guerra fue siempre una condición para el 51 the desarrollo de Estados o regímenes fiscales ni todas las guerras produjeron ese efecto .

o f Que la propia organización política del Antiguo Régimen quepa entenderla como una organi-

zación propiamente estatal es en otras ocasiones lo que se pone directamente en cuestión. De ahí que Yun mismo prefiera hablar de “regímenes fiscales” —y no de “estados fiscales”— para antes

riginals del siglo XIX; y de ahí también que uno pueda tener a veces la impresión de que los medievalis- O tas andan persiguiendo una quimera, enfrascados en reconstruir la génesis de algo cuya realidad resulta en el mejor de los casos problemática. Tal vez sea esto un efecto perverso, la consecuencia indeseada de un exceso de especialización cronológica que ni siquiera la magna empresa colectiva impulsada por Genêt y Wim Blockmans entre los 80 y los 90 consiguió paliar, pues, como apuntara luego Jacques Krynen, dicha empresa había permitido a medievalistas y modernistas trabajar unos al lado de los otros, pero no juntos, y añadía Krynen: le plus grand service que les médiévistes pourraient rendre au Moyen Age serait de cesser de faire exclusivement du Moyen Age... Il nous faut briser la chronologie... Se souvenir que Marc Bloch l’a fait, étudiant un miracle royal52. Ciertamente, los modernistas parecen hasta ahora más sensibles a lo que cabe contemplar como consecuencias historiográficas de la actual crisis del estado-nación, y con ello más conscientes de

48. Sirve para dar fe Fuente, María Jesús. “El Estado ha muerto, ¡viva el Estado! Debates historiográficos sobre el Estado en la Edad Media”. Revista de Historiografía, 9 (2008): 33-49. Pero véanse también, a modo de contraste, las obser- vaciones a principios de la misma década de García de Cortázar, José Ángel. “Elementos de definición de los espacios de poder en la Edad Media”, Los espacios de poder en la España medieval. XII Semana de Estudios Medievales (Nájera, 2001), José Ignacio de la Iglesia, José Luis Martín, coords. Logroño: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2002: 13-46. 49. Vicens Vives, Jaime. “Estructura administrativa estatal en los siglos XVI y XVII”, Obra dispersa: España, América, Eu- ropa. Barcelona: Vicens-Vives, 1967: 359-377, también recogido en Vicens Vives, Jaime. Coyuntura económica y reformismo burgués. Barcelona: Ariel, 1969: 99-141. Sobre el decisivo impacto que habría tenido este trabajo de Vicens en el cambio de rumbo experimentado en los años siguientes por la historiografía italiana interesada en su problemática, incluida la centrada en la Baja Edad Media, véase Isaacs, Ann Katherine. “Twentieth Century Italian Historiography on the State in the Early Modern Period”, Public Power in Europe: Studies in Historical Transformations, James S. Amelang, Sigfried Beer, eds. Pisa: Edizioni Plus, 2006: 17-38. 50. Elliot, John H. “A Europe of composite monarchies”. Past and Present, 137 (1992): 48-71, con versión castellana en Elliot, John H. España en Europa: Estudios de historia comparada. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2003: 65-91. Y véase asimismo Elliot, John H. Haciendo historia. Madrid: Taurus, 2012, especialmente su capítulo 2. 51. Ver Yun, Bartolomé. “Introduction: the rise of the fiscal state in Eurasia from a global, comparative and transnatio- nal perspective”, The Rise of Fiscal States: A Global History, 1500-1914, Bartolomé Yun, Patrick K. O’Brien, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012: 1-36. 52. “lo mejor que pueden hacer los medievalistas por la Edad Media sería que dejaran de hacer exclusivamente Edad Media... Hay que desbaratar la cronología... Acordarse de que Marc Bloch lo ha hecho estudiando un milagro real”. Krynen, Jacques. “La souveraineté royale”, Les tendances actuelles de l’histoire du Moyen Âge en France et en Allemagne, Jean- Claude Schmitt, Otto Gerhard Oexle, dirs. París: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002: 299-302.

388 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 que éste no era el destino inevitable o la meta obligada, habiéndose mostrado más dispuestos que 53 los bajomedievalistas a explorar las aptitudes y posibilidades de una “historia política sin Estado” , n gl is h aunque tal cosa podía resultar al cabo menos extraña a estos últimos con sólo mirar a la Alta Edad E in Media y no empeñarse en ver allí sólo caos, arbitrariedad o confusión, un panorama que única- mente habría comenzado a cambiar con la impulsión modernizante que habría supuesto, también políticamente, el renacimiento del siglo XII. Desde la perspectiva revisionista, el siglo XII marcó de todas formas, en lo que a la historia polí- ubm i tted S tica se refiere, un punto de inflexión. Pero no uno que diera paso a un desarrollo institucional y a no t una cultura crecientemente estatales, sino al despliegue y configuración de un complejo institucio- nal y una cultura política jurisdiccionales que desde los años 80 del siglo XX ha sacado a la luz una e x t s renovada historia de las instituciones que ha tenido en los países del sur de Europa a sus principales T

representantes, y cuyo eco ha alcanzado también más a los modernistas que a los medievalistas the

Si otra cosa no, a esos historiadores —principalmente historiadores del derecho, pero no sólo— o f hay que agradecer al menos haber identificado con precisión los asuntos y planteado con claridad los problemas, lo que no es poco en un terreno donde la vaguedad conceptual de unas aproxima-

ciones no tuvo durante mucho tiempo más alternativa que las apriorísticas elaboraciones teóricas r i g in al s de otras. El modelo o paradigma jurisdiccional, en cambio, se ha construido con miramiento hacia O el universo conceptual y la retórica argumentativa de las propias fuentes, así abordadas en su pro- pio contexto discursivo. Entre ellas, las que cabe considerar de carácter doctrinal —una doctrina muy poco teórica, muy apegada por contra a la praxis, que en esto también era aquel mundo muy diferente del nuestro— fueron producto de aquella ‘mysterious science’ como la calificara despecti- vamente Edward Gibbon, es decir, de la ciencia del derecho en su estación del ius commune, una ciencia cuyos inicios pueden remontarse justamente al siglo XII54 y que se desarrolló a partir del estudio de materiales viejos algunos ya para entonces de siglos, antiguos dictámenes y provectas normas que, no obstante, “envueltas en farragosos volúmenes de privados y oscuros intérpretes, forman aquella tradición de opiniones que en gran parte de Europa tiene todavía el nombre de le- yes”, como escribía asimismo un contemporáneo estricto de Gibbon, el milanés Cesare Beccaria55. “Heces de los siglos más bárbaros”, remataba aún este último. Era la mentalidad de la Ilustración, cuyos loables propósitos servían también para cimentar el muro de incomprensión, cuando no el olvido, que se interpondría posteriormente entre aquel mundo y la moderna historiografía.

53. Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “L’histoire politique sans l’État: mutations et reformulations”, Historia a debate, Carlos Barros ed. Santiago de Compostela: Xunta de Galicia, 1995: III, 217-235; García Monerris, Carmen; García Monerris, Encar- na. “Fragmentos de Monarquía: La possibilitat d’una història política sense estat”. Recerques: història, economia i cultura, 32 (1995): 103-111. 54. Ver Quaglioni, Diego. “Introduzione. La rinovazione del diritto”, Il secolo XII: la “renovatio” dell’Europa cristiana, Giles Constable, Giorgio Cracco, Hagen Keller, Diego Quaglioni, eds. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2003: 17-34. 55. Pardos, Julio A. “El mundo nuevo del derecho”, Historia de Europa, Miguel Artola, dir. Madrid: Espasa, 2007: I, 796- 804. La cita de Gibbon procede del párrafo final del capítulo 44 deThe History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire; la de Beccaria, del párrafo que abre Dei delitti e delle pene. No me resisto a añadir, por expresivo también, el juicio que merecía la compilación justinianea a otro coetáneo, el jurista napolitano Gaetano Filangieri, autor de La scienza della legislazione: se trataba de leggi d'un popolo prima libero e poi sclavo, compilato da un giureconsulto perverso sotto un Imperatore imbecille (“leyes de un pueblo libre primero y luego esclavo, compiladas por un jurisconsulto perverso bajo un Empe- rador imbécil”), (citado por Lazzarich, Diego; Borrelli, Gianfranco. “I Borbone a San Leucio: un esperimento di polizia cristiana”, Alle origini di Minerva trionfante: Caserta e l’utopia di S. Leucio: la costruzione dei siti reali borbonici, Imma Ascione, Giuseppe Cirillo, Gian Maria Piccinelli, eds. Roma: Ministero per i beni e le attività culturali: Direzione generale per gli archivi, 2012: 345-372, especialmente 347).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 389 Correspondió, sin embargo, a la scientia iuris bajomedieval y moderna la tarea de comprender y

nglish ordenar coetáneamente la compleja y siempre problemática urdimbre de poderes que, traslapándose

E muchas veces unos con otros y acomodándose todos entre sí de forma nunca definitiva, concurrían in entonces de hecho en unos mismos territorios Y es en virtud de ese cometido que el derecho de en- tonces puede hoy considerarse la vía de acceso más idónea, por directa, para conocer la composición, las características y la lógica de la mencionada trama. Se objetará, tal vez, que las elaboraciones de ubmitted sus cultivadores no dejaban de ser un constructo, a lo que cabe responder que ni más ni menos que S el necesario armazón teórico que, de manera explícita o tácita, acompaña cualquier reconstrucción y n o t análisis histórico realizados con posterioridad. Frente a los supuestos y deducciones en que se apoyan muchos trabajos historiográficos, empero, algunos de los rasgos más sobresalientes de la actividad de exts

T los juristas del periodo aquí bajo consideración, en especial su modo de proceder no sistemático, sino

the casuístico y tópico, así como su finalidad, cabría decir, no inmediatamente normativa, en el sentido de

o f que sus soluciones no eran necesariamente vinculantes, ni aún menos definitivas, antes bien confor-

maban simplemente la communis opinio, la opinión mayoritaria entre los expertos, siempre abierta a la contradicción, hacen preferible los frutos de esa actividad como el medio más adecuado hoy “para 56 riginals entender, a su través, las prácticas y el ejercicio del poder” . Pueden traerse en este punto a colación O las palabras de Patrick Geary hace ya casi treinta años:

Les médiévistes doivent commencer à élaborer d’autres schémas conceptuels et les plus utiles, à nos yeux, se truvent dans la riqche littérature, souvent pleine de contradictions, de l’anthropologie juridique. Les historiens du Moyen Age ne sont, en aucun cas, les premiers à découvrir les sociétés aux prises avec des conflits et de diffèrends à résoudre sans l’aide d’institutions juridiques centralisés et impersonnelles qui soient capables de rendre des verdicts définitifs et de les faire respecter. Des telles sociétés sont nombreuses mais, si l’Europe médiévale diffère radicalement du monde des Barotse du Nord Zimbabwe ou des Kung Bushmen du Kalahari expérience des anthropologues qui étudient la fa on dont ces sociétés traitent les tensions sociales peut nous permettre élaborer des concepts pour comprendre Europe médiévale57.

¿Y por qué no comenzar sencillamente por hacernos cargo de los propios conceptos que aparecen en las fuentes sin traducciones que resulten engañosas? A este respecto convendrá tener en cuenta la idea misma que del derecho se tenía en tiempos medievales y altomodernos. Era entonces el derecho, no expresión de poder, sino ordenamiento, emanación social y no imposición política, auto-organizza- zione prima che norma en suma, como ha insistido Paolo Grossi58. Ni se confundía entonces el derecho

56. Vallejo, Jesús. “El príncipe ante el derecho en la cultura del ius commune”, Manual de historia del derecho. Valencia: Tirant lo Blanch, 2012: 152. El mismo autor introduce de la mejor manera imaginable a los modos de razonamiento y argumentación propios de los juristas del ius commune en Vallejo, Jesús. “Derecho como cultura: equidad y orden desde la óptica del ius commune”, Historia de la propiedad: patrimonio cultural. III Encuentro interdisciplinar (Salamanca, mayo 2002), Salustiano de Dios, Javier Infante, Ricardo Robledo, Eugenia Torijano, coords. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Regis- trales, 2003: 53-70. Véase también Viehweg, Theodor. Tópica y jurisprudencia. Madrid: Taurus, 1964; Hespanha, António Manuel. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination of Old European Culture”, Early Modern History and the Social Sciences: Testing the Limits of the Braudel’s Mediterranean, John A. Marino, ed. Kirksville: Truman State University Press, 2001: 191-204, especialmente 201 y siguientes. 57. Grossi, Paolo. Il diritto tra potere e ordinamento. Nápoles: Editoriale Scientifica, 2005: 9. La referencia inexcusable aquí es, obviamente, Grossi, Paolo. L’ordine giuridico medievale. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 1995, pero aprovecharán también otros trabajos del autor ahora cómodamente recogidos en la antología Paolo Grossi, ed. Guido Alpa. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2011, especialmente Ordinamento (46-57), Un diritto senza Stato (la nozione di autonomia come fondamento della costituzione giuridica medievale) (66-82) y Dalla società di società alla insularità dello Stato: fra Medioevo ed Età moderna (88-107). Geary, Patrick J. “Vivre en conflit dans une France sans État: typologie des mécanismes de règlement des conflits (1050-1200)”. Annales. Économies. Sociétés. Civilisations. 41/5 (1986): 1107-1133 (especialmente 1109-1110). 58. “Los medievalistas deben empezar a elaborar otros esquemas conceptuales, y los más útiles a nuestro modo de ver se encuentran en la rica literatura, llena a menudo de contradicciones, de la antropología jurídica. En ningún caso son los his-

390 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 con la ley ni su producción era un monopolio, como acaecerá mucho más tarde con la irrupción en

escena del Estado. La fuerza normativa del derecho, que la tenía, no se alcanzaba tanto por la vía n gl is h legislativa como por la jurisprudencial y doctrinal. Constituía entonces el derecho, en definitiva, una E in realidad anterior al poder. Es esta la perspectiva que ha subrayado Grossi que resulta necesaria para comprender el orden jurídico precontemporáneo y la que ni siquiera suele sospecharse, sin embargo, por una mentalidad, la nuestra, forjada en la idea de que el poder ha de preceder necesariamente al derecho. Éste, sin duda, podía ser utilizado por aquél en su beneficio, pero no era la producción del ubm i tted S derecho una función vital del poder antes de la aparición del Estado, no formaba parte la creación y no t el establecimiento del primero de la fisiología del segundo, como sí ocurrirá en una fase posterior de la historia europea, en cambio, con el advenimiento del sujeto estatal. Las concepciones medieval y e x t s actual del derecho —al menos la mayoritaria, en este último caso— no resultan, por tanto, homologa- T

bles entre sí, lo que, sin una cuidadosa traducción, hace del todo inadecuadas, cuando no aberrantes, the

las categorías propias de cada una de ellas para dar cuenta de una desde la otra. o f

En relación con la práctica historiográfica, una consecuencia importante de lo anterior es que el derecho entendido como ordenamiento —en el sentido que se acaba de precisar— no se identifica con

una visión reductora y simplificadora de la complejidad social, como la que tiende a hacer suya la con- r i g in al s cepción estatalista del derecho propia del positivismo jurídico y que informaba la vieja historia de las O instituciones de raíz decimonónica, tan denostada con razón por la historia social del siglo XX y, muy especialmente, por la medievalista. Aquel entendimiento expresa por el contrario esa complejidad en el pluralismo jurídico y el pullulare di ordinamenti59 a que da lugar y que constituye un dato funda- mental del que parte la perspectiva jurisdiccionalista sobre las sociedades medievales y altomodernas. Pero el derecho no era, con todo, más que uno entre otros, y no el más importante, de los dispositivos destinados a garantizar el orden en aquellas sociedades. Unida de forma inextricable al derecho —o aun por encima del derecho en caso de conflicto con éste—, cumplía esa labor también la religión, socialmente dotada entonces de toda su fuerza preceptiva60. No era entonces más grave el delito que el pecado61; en realidad, en principio, no se distinguían; y esa primacía de la religión suponía una concepción del orden, del orden social así integrado en el orden natural, como algo previo al derecho e indisponible para éste. Al derecho no se le tenía entonces por crea- dor del orden; le incumbía sólo ponerlo de manifiesto62. Su posición era ciertamente subordinada,

toriadores de la Edad Media los primeros en descubrir sociedades que han de resolver sus conflictos y diferencias sin la ayuda de instituciones jurídicas centralizadas en condiciones de poder dictar veredictos definitivos y de hacerlos respetar. Tales sociedades abundan, pero si la Europa medieval difiere radicalmente del mundo de los barotse del norte de Zimbabue o de los bosquimanos del Kalahari, la experiencia de los antropólogos que estudian la manera en que estas sociedades gestionan las tensiones sociales puede permitirnos elaborar conceptos para comprender la Europa medieval”. 59. “pulular de ordenamientos”. Grossi, Paolo: Ordinamento...: 54. 60. Siguen siendo esenciales al respecto Clavero, Bartolomé. Antidora: antropología católica de la economía moderna. Milán: Giuffrè, 1991; Clavero, Bartolomé. “Beati dictum: derecho de linaje, economía de familia y cultura de orden”. Anuario de Historia del Derecho Español, 63-64 (1993-1994): 7-148. 61. Véase con ópticas distintas: Clavero, Bartolomé. “Delito y pecado: noción y escala de transgresiones”, Sexo barroco y otras transgresiones premodernas, Francisco Tomás, coord. Madrid: Alianza, 1990: 57-89; Prodi, Paolo. Una storia della gius- tizia: dal pluralismo dei fori al moderno dualismo tra coscienza e diritto. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2000; Morin, Alejandro. “Pecado e individuo en el marco de una antropología cristiana medieval”. Bulletin du Centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre, Hors série 2. (2008) . 62. Véase Petit, Carlos; Vallejo, Jesús. “La categoria giuridica nella cultura europea del Medioevo”, Storia d’Europa 3: Il Medioevo: secoli V-XV, Gherardo Ortalli, ed. Turín: Einaudi, 1994: 721-760; Hespanha, António Manuel. Cultura jurídica europea: síntesis de un milenio. Madrid: Tecnos, 2002: 58 y siguientes; Hespanha, António Manuel. “As cores e a instituiçao da ordem no mundo do antigo regime”. Phronesis: Revista do Curso de Direito da FEAD, 6 (2010): 9-24.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 391 porque el amor a Dios y al prójimo —la caridad, virtud teologal— primaba o debía primar en su

nglish consideración social sobre la justicia —virtud cardinal—, aunque esta última también se identifica-

E ra con el Creador y Juez supremo. He ahí la razón de la frecuente presencia en nuestras fuentes, las in fuentes de la práctica incluidas, de un lenguaje amoroso, de amor y desamor, que los historiadores no siempre se han tomado en serio o que han ignorado incluso, incómodos —por qué no decir- lo— con un vocabulario que se les antojaba un residuo de ingenuidad, sobre todo si expresado en ubmitted lengua vulgar, es decir, una vez que el occidente europeo había iniciado supuestamente la senda S irreversible, por más que a veces contrariada, de la modernidad institucional. n o t Menos sorprendía el mismo vocabulario en su versión latina y en documentos de la Alta Edad Media. Amor y amicitia podían desplegar en estos, a propósito de los asuntos más graves y sin em- exts

T barazo del historiador, toda su carga semántica propia y figurada, pues no en vano sus redactores

the solían ser hombres de Iglesia, consagrados a Dios; pero también porque se trataba de un momento

o f anterior al arranque de la modernidad dicha. En el valor moral del amor y la amistad, más o me-

nos ritualizados, podían descansar entonces eficazmente, se vino a concluir, formas de resolución de conflictos que habrían quedado luego obsoletas con el desarrollo e imposición de instituciones

riginals judiciales cada vez más estables y racionales así como de dependencia crecientemente centralizada. O Las guerrae poscarolingias se saldaban, no con la simple instauración de una paz neutra, sino con el restablecimiento del amor entre las partes en conflicto por medio de la actuación voluntaria, en calidad de árbitros o mediadores, de pares de los contendientes. Era este el tema, como se sabe, del conocido artículo de Patrick Geary antes citado, portavoz a fin de cuentas en tal ocasión de una corriente historiográfica que ha venido en denominarse “escuela americana” en el estudio de los conflictos y el orden social medievales63. Uno de los primeros textos emblemáticos de esta corriente recurría en su título a un apotegma contenido en las Leges Henrici Primi, una compilación elabora- da en Inglaterra a principios del siglo XII: Pactum legem vincit et amor iudicium64. Hoy sabemos, sin embargo, de la duradera vigencia del principio que sustentaba semejante brocardo, una vigencia no limitada únicamente a los siglos altomedievales, sino prolongada durante toda la Edad Media65 y más allá66. El amor del que se habla, entiéndase, no es tanto estado de ánimo subjetivo cuanto realidad objetiva, en el mismo sentido en que los colores no se tienen entonces por una percepción

63. Véase Conflict in Medieval Europe: Changing Perspectives on Society and Culture, ed. Warren C. Brown, Piotr Górecky. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003. 64. White, Stephen D. “Pactum... Legem Vincit et Amor Judicium: The Settlement of Disputes by Compromise in Eleventh- Century Western France”. The American Journal of Legal History, 22 (1978): 281-308, ahora también en White, Stephen D. Feuding and Peace-Making in Eleventh-Century France. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005. 65. Véase Clanchy, Michael. “Law and Love in the Middle Ages”, Disputes and Settlements: Law and Human Relations in the West, John Bossy, ed. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1983: 47-67; Roebuck, Derek, Mediation and Arbi- tration in the Middle Ages: England 1154 to 1558. Oxford: Holo Books, 2013; Smail, Daniel Lord. “Telling Tales in Angevin Courts”, French Historical Studies, 20/2 (1997): 183-215; Smail, Daniel Lord. The Consumption of Justice: Emotions, Publicity, and Legal Culture in Marseille, 1264-1423. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003; Vallejo, Jesús. “Amor de árbitros: episodio de le sucesión de Per Afán de Ribera el Viejo”, Fallstudien zur spanischen und portugiesischen Justiz: 15. bis 20. Jahrhundert, Johannes-Michael Scholz, ed. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1994: 211-269. 66. Véase Bossy, John. “Postscript”, Disputes and Settlements...: 287-293; Hespanha, António Manuel. La gracia del derecho: economía de la cultura en la Edad Moderna, Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1993: maxime cap. 1; Raggio, Osvaldo. “Visto dalla periferia. Formazioni politiche di antico regime e Stato moderno”, Storia d’Europa, 4: L’età moderna: secoli XVI-XVIII, Maurice Aymard, ed. Turín: Einaudi, 1995: 483-527: 515-523; Niccoli, Ottavia. Perdonare: idee, pratiche, rituali tra Cinque e Seicento. Roma-Bari: Laterza: 2007; Stringere la pace: teorie e pratiche della conciliazione nell’Europa moderna (secoli XV-XVIII), Paolo Broggio, Maria Pia Paoli, eds. Roma: Viella: 2011; The Charitable Arbitrator: How to Mediate and Arbitrate in Louis XIV’s France, Derek Roebuck ed. Oxford: Holo Books, 2002; Garriga, Carlos. “Sobre el gobierno de la justicia en Indias (siglos XVI-XVII). Revista de Historia del Derecho, 34 (2006): 67-160: 143.

392 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 del sujeto, sino como una cualidad de los objetos. El amor es afecto, inclinación, sí, pero que no ha

de someterse a la voluntad, la cual es “potencia ciega. ¿Qué se puede esperar de un hombre que n gl is h tiene más respeto a lo que su voluntad inclina que a lo que la ley de Dios le obliga?”67. No era el del E in sujeto —el del individuo— el punto de vista privilegiado social e institucionalmente entonces para abordar el mundo e insertarse en él68. Para que aquél fuese dueño de su propia vida, por decirlo con una expresión hoy corriente, habría de ser necesario abolir el “ordenamiento compuesto”69, a la vez religioso y jurídico, en que anteriormente se encontraba inmerso. ubm i tted S En sus distintas manifestaciones concretas, el orden social y político europeo de los siglos XII a no t XVIII, en efecto, no era un compuesto de individuos, aunque sí de personas. Personas que podían identificarse con individuos, pero que no se confundían con ellos; que podían también multipli- e x t s carse en un mismo individuo; o necesitar, en cambio, de un número plural de ellos para consti- T

tuirse. Los individuos, en suma, no eran más que intérpretes de uno o más roles; y eran éstos, no the

aquéllos, los titulares de derechos y deberes, o mejor, de privilegios y funciones. Los primeros —los o f privilegios— eran expresión de diversidad y desigualdad, y de ellos participaban los individuos, no en cuanto tales, sino en razón de su estado o condición social, o sea, del rol o roles que pudiesen

desempeñar, pues podían dichos roles ser asimismo varios, bien en el tiempo, bien en el espacio. r i g in al s He ahí los únicos estados entonces existentes. Las segundas —las funciones— respondían a una O idea de unidad que no era equivalente de homogeneidad, sino de agregado idealmente armónico de fragmentos heterogéneos; piezas o fragmentos éstos que al tiempo que perseguían sus propios fines contribuían al funcionamiento ordenado del conjunto del que formaban parte. Era sólo en este caso cuando las personas se identificaban además, hasta confundirse, con un cuerpo, aunque no uno material, sino místico, con el mismo significado que se decía de la Iglesia que era uncorpus mysticum. Se trataba de un cuerpo, pues, inmaterial e inmortal, al que podía dar lugar tanto la sucesión de una serie de individuos en una misma dignidad como la agrupación coetánea de una pluralidad de ellos en una corporación. Y la sociedad toda, formada por esos cuerpos, cumpliendo cada uno con la función que tenía asignada, podía figurarse también conforme a este patrón orga- nicista —será un motivo iconográfico además de discursivo recurrente, como se sabe— e imaginar- se cuerpo a su vez, esto es, persona. Eran estas personas, así también finalmente con cuerpo y con distintas envergaduras, las que configuraban aquel orden político y social. Del individuo singular en cuanto tal, sin ser persona, lo único que socialmente importaba era su alma70. Conviene añadir que esa composición corporativa, como se acostumbra a decir —con el riesgo, no obstante, de malentendidos—, se consideraba que formaba parte de un orden natural y, por tanto,

67. Covarrubias, Sebastián de: “Voluntad, Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española”. Madrid: Luis Sánchez, impresor 1611: 76v. Y véase Hespanha, António Manuel. “La senda amorosa del derecho: amor y iustitia en el discurso jurídico moderno”, Pasiones del jurista: amor, memoria, melancolía, imaginación, Carlos Petit, ed. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Cons- titucionales, 1997: 23-56; Hespanha, António Manuel. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination...”; Hespanha, António Manuel. “As cores e a instituiçao da ordem...”. 68. Véase Alessi, Giorgia. Il soggetto e l’ordine: percorsi dell’individualismo nell’Europa moderna. Turín: Giappichelli, 2006; Clavero, Bartolomé. Happy Constitution: cultura y lengua constitucionales. Madrid: Trotta, 1997: 11-40. 69. Clavero, Bartolomé. “Beati dictum...”: 119. Puede apreciarse ahora alguna confluencia, al menos en el planteamien- to, en Fletcher, Christopher; Oates, Rosamund. “Afterword: Religious Thought, Political Practices, 1200-1600”. Cultural and Social History, 6/3 (2009): 297-304. 70. Véase Clavero, Bartolomé. Tantas personas como estados: por una antropología política de la historia europea. Madrid: Tec- nos, 1986; Clavero, Bartolomé. “Almas y cuerpos: sujetos del derecho en la Edad moderna”, Studi in memoria di Giovanni Tarello. Milán: Giuffrè, 1990: I, 153-171; Hespanha, António Manuel. “Early Modern Law and the Anthropological Imagination...”: 193 y siguientes.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 393 indisponible para cualquier poder político, para el que la pluralidad de cuerpos y la relativa autono-

nglish mía de cada uno de ellos constituía un dato irreductible. Las corporaciones que, como las ciudades,

E tenían base territorial, así como las entidades señoriales podrán de esta forma pervivir como sujetos in políticos durante todo el tiempo de vigencia de aquella concepción del orden, no en calidad de vesti- gios o rémoras a partir de determinado momento, sino en la de elementos consustanciales al mismo. Característica, por otro lado, de esa manera de entender el orden social y político, en lo que a ubmitted la autonomía de las piezas que conformaban el todo se refiere, era la capacidad que se reconocía a S éstas para dotarse de su propio ordenamiento, con el resultado de que también desde este punto de n o t vista el conjunto resultaba un complejo mosaico o agregado de iura propria nada homogéneo. Y era ésta la manifestación más visible de la iurisdictio que, en diversos grados, se reconocía igualmente exts

T como consustancial a cada cuerpo (corpus, societas, communitas, universitas, civitas, respublica...) y que

the era ejercida por su cabeza (pars principans). Jurisdicción —iurisdictio y su campo semántico en aquel

71 o f contexto, no en el nuestro— es la palabra que designa entonces, en efecto, el poder político .

Titular de éste es quien tiene jurisdicción, cada cual en su ámbito, pero sin que ninguna jerarquía esté en condiciones o tenga facultad de suspender o anular la que a cada uno corresponde dentro

riginals de la esfera que le es propia. La consecuencia no puede ser otra que un entendimiento del entra- O mado político como una constelación de repúblicas, obligadas éstas a negociar constantemente y en razón de las circunstancias la composición del conjunto y expresión éste del policentrismo que caracteriza entonces la titularidad y el ejercicio del poder político. Iurisdictio es ante todo poder o potestad judicial, y su titular es ante todo juez, cuya actividad se centra principalmente en la resolución de conflictos dando a cada uno lo suyo suum— cuique tribuere, como reza la definición de justicia contenida en elDigesto debida a Ulpiano y que hará suya Tomás de Aquino—, esto es, asegurando a cada cual en el lugar que le corresponde dentro del orden preestablecido, el orden natural de las cosas. Pero iurisdictio es también potestad normativa, entendida como facultad de interpretación, adaptación y concreción de ese mismo orden natural en circunstancias precisas, no como prerrogativa de creación de un orden ex novo. Al titular de la iurisdictio le corresponde, pues, asegurar el mantenimiento y la conservación de un orden que le precede y proceder a la restauración del mismo en caso de ser conculcado, y esto conduciéndose en todo momento de acuerdo con los requerimientos y las garantías propios de una actuación procesal. De ahí que se haya podido hablar de una “concepción panjudicial del gobierno”72, o de una rappresentazione giustiziale del portere que, de origen medieval, sobrevivió durante toda la Edad Moderna73. Sólo recurriendo de forma excepcional, justificada y no menos reglada a lapotestas absoluta que también se reconoció en los reinos europeos de dicho periodo al titular de la máxima jurisdicción pudo éste actuar sin atenerse a las pautas judiciales a las que debía ajustarse su con- ducta y proceder habituales; y únicamente apelando asimismo a su potestas oeconomica o doméstica en virtud de la asimilación de la república a una familia, la célula básica ésta del orden social, so-

71. La remisión fundamental aquí no puede ser más que a Costa, Pietro. Iurisdictio: semantica del potere politico nella pubbli- cistica medievale (1100-1433). Milán: Giuffrè, 1969; y, en su estela, a Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad, ley consumada: concepción de la potestad normativa, 1250-1350. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, 1992. 72. Mannori, Luca. “Justicia y Administración entre Antiguo y Nuevo Régimen”. Revista Jurídica de la Universidad Au- tónoma de Madrid, 15 (2007): 125-146, 135. 73. “imagen judicial del poder”. Mannori, Luca; Sordi, Bernando. Storia del diritto administrativo. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2001: 38.

394 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 metida al poder discrecional del pater familias, le fue dado a los titulares de jurisdicción actuar sin

las cortapisas propias del ejercicio de ésta. n gl is h

Muy sucintamente, esas eran las concepciones y valores que sustentaban el orden social e ins- E in titucional anterior a las revoluciones que dieron paso al mundo en el que, tal vez, aún vivimos74; o, dicho de otro modo, que informaban las estructuras básicas en que se apoyó la construcción y el funcionamiento de las entidades y regímenes políticos entonces realmente existentes75. Esas eran, en definitiva, las concepciones y valores que alentaban en las principales reglas del juego con ubm i tted S que los distintos intereses en pugna se enfrentaban entonces entre sí y dirimían sus diferencias. Se no t trataba de reglas y concepciones muy distintas de las nuestras, como se ve. Iniciado su despliegue en el ápice de los siglos medievales, allá por los siglos XII y XIII, no serían puestas en tela de juicio, e x t s práctica y comprometidamente, hasta el siglo XVIII, aunque, sin duda, podamos hoy identificar re- T

trospectivamente elaboraciones teóricas anteriores que contenían formulaciones o propuestas, más the

o menos desarrolladas, que solo después de aquella fecha, sin embargo, conseguirían abrirse paso o f y alcanzar traducción práctica. Con todo, conviene no dejarse llevar en exceso por esta perspectiva genética o genealógica, causante con frecuencia, no ya de lecturas anacrónicas de las fuentes, sino

de operar sobre éstas un proceso de selección —inevitable este, por lo demás, en el trabajo del his- r i g in al s toriador— que tiende a surtir el efecto perverso de descontextualizarlas y privarlas así de su propia O lógica. En lo que a génesis se refiere, es únicamente la de las fuentes mismas la que no puede ni debe soslayarse a la hora de su correcto y más fértil entendimiento. Pero si aquellas reglas del juego no fueron objeto de impugnación hasta la fecha indicada y su liquidación fue el resultado de procesos revolucionarios no exentos por lo general de violencia, su puesta en vigor tampoco se produjo de forma pacífica y sin sobresaltos. Es más, su propia vigencia estuvo siempre sometida a la confrontación con prácticas en principio ajenas, y justo la manera de abordar la guerra ofrece un buen ejemplo de ello. Veámoslo también rápida y sintéticamente.

4. Guerra

En la penúltima década del siglo XIV, el canonista Honorat Bovet redactaba su famoso Ar- bre des batailles, una obra que ha podido calificarse como “una auténtica enciclopedia de la caballería”76, e igualmente como “verdadero compendio del arte de la guerra” y —lo que aquí más nos interesa— “auténtico tratado sobre derecho bélico”77. Doctor en Decretos por la Uni- versidad de Avignon y prior de un pequeño establecimiento benedictino en Selonnet, en la

74. Ofrecen síntesis excelentes con las que poder completar —o corregir si necesario— lo aquí expuesto Garriga, Carlos. “Orden jurídico y poder político en el Antiguo Régimen”, Cádiz, 1812: la constitución jurisdiccional, Carlos Garriga, Marta Lorente, eds. Madrid: Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales, 2007: 43-72; Agüero, Alejandro. “Las categorías básicas de la cultura jurisdiccional”. Cuadernos de derecho judicial, 6 (2006): 19-58; Costa, Pietro. “Il diritto nell’Europa moderna: strumenti e strategie”, L'età moderna (secoli XVI-XVIII): Culture, religioni, saperi, Roberto Bizzocchi, ed. (Storia Politica e del Mediterraneo, Alessandro Barbero, dir., vol. 11). Roma: Salerno Editrice, 2011: 415-456; Vallejo, Jesús. “El príncipe ante el derecho...”. 75. Véase, por todos, Benedictis, Angela de. Politica, governo e istituzioni nell’Europa moderna. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2001. 76. Gómez Moreno, Ángel. “La militia clásica y la caballería medieval: las lecturas de re militari entre Medievo y Renaci- miento”. Evphrosyne: Revista de Filologia Clássica, 23 (1995): 83-97: 96. 77. Para ambas apreciaciones, Contreras, Antonio. “Estudio introductorio a Honoré de Bouvet”, en Honoré de Bouvet, Árbol de batallas: versión castellana a tribuida a Diego de Valera, Antonio Contreras, ed. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa, 2008: 13-29. La atribución de esta traducción castellana a Diego de Valera es dudosa. En contra de tal opinión, por ejemplo: Velasco, Jesús R. El debate sobre la caballería en el siglo XV: la tratadística caballeresca castellana en su marco europeo. Valladolid: Junta de Castilla y León, 1996: 116-119, 221-222, 392-393.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 395 Alta Provenza, no se piense en Bovet, sin embargo, como alguien entregado a los estudios y la

nglish vida contemplativa. Su afán de intervención en los asuntos político-religiosos enmarcados en el

E Cisma de Occidente, no sólo está detrás de sus obras, sino que parece que le llevó también a ser in un activo miembro del círculo de próximos de Carlos VI, a quien precisamente está dedicado el Arbre. De la extraordinaria difusión de éste da idea el que hoy se conserve casi un centenar de copias manuscritas y que la obra fuera objeto de nueve ediciones impresas entre 1477 y 1515. ubmitted Escrita en vulgar y traducida muy pronto a otras lenguas vernáculas, puede decirse que se trata- S ba de una obra de divulgación de la doctrina sobre la guerra tal como había cristalizado ésta en n o t la primera fase de madurez del ius commune, pudiéndose rastrear fácilmente en ella las huellas de Bartolo da Sassoferrato y de Giovanni da Legnano, autor este último, apenas una treintena de exts

T años antes, del primer tratado de bello propiamente dicho. Habitual en las bibliotecas nobiliarias

the de toda Europa, en Castilla, poco antes de mediar el siglo XV, Íñigo López de Mendoza y Álvaro

o f de Luna no dudaron en coincidir al menos en una cosa: el encargo de sendas traducciones de un

libro “tan leido por los caballeros como una autoridad sobre las leyes de la guerra”78. En una de esas traducciones, la encargada por el condestable, podemos leer lo siguiente bajo la rúbrica “Si

riginals otro príncipe qu’el Enperador puede ordenar guerra”: O

Aquí conviene que sepamos si los otros príncipes pueden mandar hazer guerra. E yo vos respondo que sí, según derecho; mas otra presona no puede mandar hazer guerra. E la razón es que non pueden ni deve ninguno traer armas sin licencia del príncipe. E ay otra razón, que ninguno no puede ni deve tomar derecho de otro si le á hecho tuerto; mas conviene qu’el principe le haga justicia. Mas el día de oy cada uno manda hazer guerra, lo cual de derecho hazer no se deve.79

El texto expresa ya con claridad la creciente restricción del concepto de guerra que se impon- drá en la cultura modelada por el derecho común europeo. Sólo el príncipe, esto es, la persona singular o colectiva titular de la máxima iurisdictio, que no reconoce por ello superior, puede declarar la guerra, de la que únicamente cabrá hablar con propiedad, por tanto, en tal circuns- tancia, es decir, en las guerras declaradas y conducidas por el príncipe. Ahora bien, susceptible de ser contradicha y sometida su aplicación a un régimen, no legal, sino jurisprudencial, esa doctrina, opinión al fin y al cabo, bien que opinión cualificada, que ex- traía de la tradición construida a partir de la exégesis y el comentario incesantes de unos textos de base reverenciados, así como del grado de consenso alcanzado al respecto, toda su autoridad y fuerza normativa, no llegaría a ser del todo pacífica en realidad hasta el último cuarto del si- glo XVI, en un contexto entonces marcado profundamente por el desgarro que supusieron las guerras de religión80. Y la actitud de los juristas tuvo un exacto paralelo del lado de los teólogos.

78. Keen, Maurice. La caballería. Barcelona: Ariel, 1986: 308. Para todo lo dicho, bastará con remitir además a: Biu, Hé- lène. La traduction occitane de l’Arbre des batailles de Honorat Bovet. París: École Nationale de chartes (tesis doctoral), 2000. ; Álvarez Márquez, M. Carmen. “La biblioteca de Don Fadrique Enríquez de Ribera, I Marqués de Tarifa (1532)”. Historia. Instituciones. Documentos, 13 (1986): 1-40; Çeçen, Zeynep K. Interpreting Warfare and Knighthood in Late Medieval France: Writers and their Sources in the Reign of King Charles VI (1380-1422). Ankara: Bilkent University (Tesis doctoral), 2012. ; Taylor, Craig. Chivalry and the Ideals of Knighthood in France during the Hundred Years War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 79. Árbol de batallas: versión castellana...: 86. 80. Véase Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine de la guerre juste. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 1983: 134 y siguientes. Y véase también Quaglioni, Diego. “Pour une histoire du droit de guerre au début de l’âge moderne: Bodin, Gentili, Grotius”. Laboratoire italien, 10 (2010): 27-43 (con versión italiana en Teatri di guerra: rappresentazioni e discorsi tra età moderna ed età contemporanea, Angela de Benedictis, Clizia Magoni, eds. Bolonia: Bolonia University Press, 2010:

396 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 Si en su célebre fórmula acerca de los tres requisitos que debía cumplir una guerra para ser

considerada justa, Tomás de Aquino había reservado el primer lugar a la auctoritas principis, de n gl is h modo que solo a éste correspondía lícitamente la potestas bellandi81, Francisco de Vitoria, casi tres E in siglos más tarde, tras poner de manifiesto una noción de guerra más amplia e inclusiva que la del Aquinate y reservar al príncipe luego la exclusividad únicamente de la guerra ofensiva, en tanto que depositario legítimo de una autoridad que reside en la communitas o respublica perfecta que preside, aún añade, sin escatimar ejemplos para mayor claridad: ubm i tted S no t Ex quibus sequitur, quod alii reguli seu principes, qui non praesunt rei publicae, non possunt bellum inferre aut gerere, quemadmodum dux Albanus aut comes Beneventanus. Sunt enim partes regni Castellae et per consequens non habent perfectas res publicas, sed truncatas. Sed est notandum, quod cum haec sint magna ex e x t s parte aut iure gentium aut humano, consuetudo potest dare facultatem belli gerendi. Unde si quae civitas aut T

princeps obtinuit antiqua consuetudine ius gerendi per se bellum, non est ei neganda haec auctoritas, etiam the

si alias non esset res publica perfecta. Item etiam necessitas hanc licentiam et auctoritatem concedere posset.82 o f

Apenas una década después de la muerte de Tomás de Aquino y culminando que podría de-

cirse el decidido movimiento de elaboración de coutumiers que se desarrolló en Francia a lo largo r i g in al s del siglo XIII, Philippe de Beaumanoir llevaba a cabo la redacción de Li livres des coustumes et des O usages de Beauvoisins83, cuyo capítulo LIX dedicaba precisamente a las guerras, comment guerre se fet et comment guerre faut, en realidad una recopilación de las normas consuetudinarias por las que se regía el droit de guerre reconocido a los gentius hommes, o sea, a los nobles, car autre que gentil homme ne pueent guerroier84. Aun con esta restricción, el contraste con la posición del Doctor An- gelicus no puede resultar más evidente, y la diferencia pasaba por la costumbre, el mismo factor que, dos siglos y medio más tarde, bastaba a Francisco de Vitoria para considerar lícito el recurso a la guerra por propia iniciativa de civitas aut princeps no soberanos85. Teólogo, no por ello Vitoria limitaba sus autoridades, y junto a otros doctores de su misma especialidad, al lado de los Padres de la Iglesia y del Filósofo, en su argumentación acerca de a quien cabía atribuir la competencia de declarar y hacer la guerra, iniciada con una cita del Digesto, comparecían asimismo juristas de renombre, como Bártolo o el Panormitano. Ciertamente, en la cultura que estos últimos, los

29-42), enfatizando cómo la guerra se seguirá pensando, con todo, en términos jurídicos y asimilándose a un proceso judicial, en perfecta consonancia con una manera de entender el poder político esencialmente como iurisdictio. 81. Véase Haggenmacker, Peter. Grotios et la doctrine...: 122 y siguientes; Russell, Frederick H. The Just War in the Middle Ages. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1975: 267 y siguientes. 82. Vitoria, Francisco de. De iure belli, Carlo Galli, ed. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2005: 24 (II, 3). 83. Beaumanoir, Philippe de. Coutumes de Beauvaisis, Amédée Salmon, ed. París: Picard, 1899. Una aproximación a las Coutumes en clave comparativa en Miller, Samuel J.T. “The Position of the King in Bracton and Beaumanoir”. Speculum, 31/2 (1956): 263-296; y en clave biográfica en Lécuyer, Sylvie. “Un idéal social, politique et religieux transmis de père en fils: du roman deJehan et Blonde aux Coutumes de Beauvaisis”. Revue des Langues Romanes, 1 (2000): 129-142. 84. Beaumanoir, Philippe de. Coutumes de Beauvaisis...: II, 357. Y véase el episodio coetáneo que, a manera de ilustra- ción, ofrece Bordier, Henri Léonard. Philippe de Remi, sire de Beaumanoir, jurisconsulte et poëte national du Beauvaisis, 1246- 1296. París: Librairie Techener, 1869: 81-93. 85. Entiéndase aquí la idea de soberanía en el único sentido que cabe para ese momento: está investido de ella quien está exento del juicio de otro, esto es, no sujeto a una iurisdictio superior. Véase Costa, Pietro. “La soberanía en la cultura político-jurídica medieval: imágenes y teorías”. Res publica, 17 (2007): 33-58.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 397 juristas, habían forjado no era menos la costumbre que la ley86; ambas se tenían igualmente por

nglish revelación de un mismo orden indisponible.

E “Mas el día de oy cada uno manda hazer guerra, lo cual de derecho hazer no se deve”. Así in terminaba, recordemos, el fragmento del Árbol de batallas que trajimos antes a colación. Sin duda. Honorat Bovet dejaba ahí tácitamente testimonio de las guerras que asolaron la Provenza tras la muerte de la reina Juana de Nápoles en 1382. Es lástima que no contemos al día de hoy con una ubmitted edición crítica del Arbre, porque además merecería la pena cotejar el texto de la traducción castella- S na que venimos manejando (A) con el texto francés. Hagámoslo de todas formas con dos versiones n o t de éste, la de la única edición moderna existente, ya cargada de años y realizada a partir de un manuscrito de 1456 conservado en la Bibliothèque royale de Belgique87 (B), y la de un incunable exts 88 T de 1493 que guarda la Bibliothèque nationale de France (C): the o f

A B C Si otro príncipe qu’el Enperador Se ung altre prince que l’empereur Se aultre prince que lempereur peut puede ordenar guerra. peut ordonner guerre. ordonner ne commander guerre. Aquí conviene que sepamos si los Puisque je vous ay dit et moustré Presce que je vous ay dit comment riginals

O otros príncipes pueden mandar comment l’empereur peut ordonner lempereur peut ordonner guerre, hazer guerra. E yo vos respondo que et commander guerre, maintenant nous convient il scavoir se le feront sí, según derecho; mas otra presona nous convient il sçavoir comment les autres seigneurs, cest a scavoir, no puede mandar hazer guerra. E la ainsi le feront les aultres princes silz pourront ordonner guerre. Je razón es que non pueden ni deve cèst a dire se ils pourront ordonner vous dy que ouy selon droit, car le ninguno traer armas sin licencia guerre. A quoy je vous respons que conseil de faire guerre est par devers del príncipe. E ay otra razón, que ouy selon droit, car le conseil de les seigneurs se dient les drois. Mais ninguno no puede ni deve tomar faire guerre est devers les princes, selon verite aultre personne qui derecho de otro si le á hecho tuerto; ainsi que dient les loix, mais selon ne soit prince ne peut commander mas conviene qu’el príncipe le haga la verité, aultre personne qui ne soit guerre generalle. Et ceste est la justicia. Mas el día de oy cada uno prince ne peut commander guerre raison: car nul ne peut ne doit manda hazer guerra, lo cual de generale. Et la raison si est, car nuls porter armes sans la licence des derecho hazer no se debe. ne doit ne ne peut porter armes princes. La seconde raison est car sans la licence du prince. Et aussi vng homme ne peut pas prandre selon l’aultre raison ung homme droit de vng autre se tort il lui tient, ne peut pas de soy mesme prendre mais comment (sic) que le prince de faire droit de ung aultre se tort face iustice entre ses hommes. lui tient, mais il est necessaire que Touttefois au iourduy chescun veult le prince fasse justice entre ses commander guerre, mesmement hommes. Toutefois aujourd’huy vng chevalier contre vng autre, ce chascun veult commander guerre et que faire ne se doit selon les drois. mesme ung simple chevalier contre ung aultre. Ce que faire ne se doit selon les droits.

Como se puede comprobar, la traducción castellana escamotea la razón precisa en que se funda la respuesta inicialmente afirmativa que da Bovet a la cuestión que trata: otros príncipes distintos del emperador pueden ordenar y hacer guerra, porque a ellos corresponde en derecho le conseil de

86. Véase Petit, Carlos; Vallejo, Jesús. “La categoria giuridica”...: 748-749; y con mayor contundencia técnica, Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad, ley consumada... 87. L’arbre des batailles d’Honoré Bonet, ed. Ernest Nys. Bruselas: C. Muquardt, 1883: 90-91. 88. Bonet, Honorat (Honoré Bouvet). L’arbre des batailles. París: Antoine Vérard, 1493 .

398 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 faire guerre. El incunable emplea en este paso la palabra seigneurs, de mayor generalidad, evitando

la ambigüedad en el uso de prince y pudiendo así establecer con mayor claridad a continuación lo n gl is h que, en cambio, está reservado sólo al príncipe, esto es, la guerre generale. La versión castellana, sin E in embargo, también elude esta precisión. ¿Simple economía de la traducción u opción políticamente deliberada? Aún podemos recurrir a una comparación más, esta vez con una traducción al catalán de 1429, anterior, pues, a la castellana y cuyo manuscrito se conserva también en la Bibliothèque nationale ubm i tted S de France89: no t

Apres que vous he dit com lemperador pot ordonar e començar guerra nos coue saber com ho faran los altres e x t s

princeps, co es a dir, a dir si ells poden ordonar guerra, e dits vos que hoc, segons dret. Car lo conseil de fer T guerra es ab los princeps, ço diu lo dret. Mas segons dret altra persona que no sia princep no pot ordonar guerra the

general. E aço es la raho: car nengun no deu portar armes ses licencia del princep segons les leys. Laltra raho

si es car vn hom no pot pendre dret de un altre si li te tort, mas fa que lo princep fara justicia entre aquestes. o f

Tota vegada, al jorn de huy tot hom vol comandar guerra, hoc un simple cavaller contra vn altre, ço que pas nos deu fer segons los drets. r i g in al s

Como vemos, la versión castellana resulta ser una versión resueltamente abreviada y, en este O sentido, la menos fiel a un arquetipo a cuyo tenor parecen ajustarse más y mejor tanto versiones anteriores como posteriores. Desde luego, el resultado de la operación dista de ser inocuo, aunque no podamos ir ahora más allá de esta conclusión sin adentrarnos en el terreno de la conjetura. En cualquier caso, lo que sí se muestra como una evidencia es que la posición restrictiva soste- nida por Bovet con respecto al derecho de guerra no se reflejaba en la realidad más bien opuesta que le rodeaba. Lo dejaba claro, ambas cosas, en el remate de su argumento. Ya sabemos también que su postura, lejos de ser unánimemente aceptada, incluso entre teólogos y juristas, tardaría en imponerse. Y los historiadores no han dejado de prestar en las últimas décadas una atención redo- blada a los estallidos violentos de las múltiples formas de la faida, de la inimicitia, significativamente persistentes durante toda la Edad Media y buena parte del periodo altomoderno y que no vendrían sino a confirmar lo anterior también por la vía de los hechos, a menos, claro está, que teleológica- mente no se quiera ver en ello más que un residuo del pasado y una rémora factual del futuro90. Fe-

89. Bibliothèque nationale de France. MSS Espagnol, 206 : “Aquest libre ha fet tralladar lo honorable mossen Ramon de Caldes en lany mil CCCC XXIX, lo qual ha escrit Loren Rexarch...”. 90. Para una perspectiva de conjunto sobre la literatura producida en este campo por la historiografía del área anglo- germánica, véase Feud in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Jeppe B. Netterstrøm, Bjørn Poulsen, eds. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2007. Pero no debe descuidarse la aportación de la historiografía italiana, sobre la que cabe indicar al menos: Zorzi, Andrea. “Ius erat in armis: faide e conflitti tra pratiche sociali e pratiche di governo”,Origini dello Stato: processi di formazione statale in Italia fra medioevo ed età moderna Giorgio Chittolini, Anthony Molho, Pierangelo Schiera, eds. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 1994: 609-629; Zorzi, Andrea. “I conflitti nell’Italia comunale: riflessioni sullo stato degli studi e sulle prospettive di ricerca”, Conflitti, paci e vendette nell’Italia comunale, Andrea Zorzi, ed. Florencia: Firenze University Press, 2009: 7-41. No llegó a tiempo para poder aprovecharse aquí Povolo, Claudio. “Faida e vendetta tra consuetudini e riti processuali”. Storica, 56-57 (2013): 53-103, con versión en inglés en Povolo, Claudio. “Feud and vendetta: customs and trial rites in Medieval and Modern Europe. A legal-anthropological approach”. Acta Histriae, 23/2 (2015), 195-244.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 399 hden en Franconia91, guerrae señoriales en Languedoc92, inimicitiae entre linajes en Siena93 y luchas 94 95 nglish entre fazioni en el Milanesado o entre bandos en tierras vascas , bandositats también en el reino

E de Valencia96 o aristocratic feuds en el de Inglaterra97, por citar solo unos cuantos ejemplos objeto de in recientes publicaciones, muestran, más allá de las indudables peculiaridades locales, la vitalidad y generalidad del fenómeno de la faida noble entre los siglos XIII y XVI. Bien puede decirse, pues, que la faida constituía uno de esos frames and forms and patterns in which politics took place que John ubmitted Watts designa —siempre susceptibles de ser adaptadas y manipuladas— como estructuras, the basic S currencies in which later medieval politics were conducted, una estructura además that received contempo- n o t rary recognition, como las que el historiador inglés cree que deben ser privilegiadas en el análisis98. Por lo demás, no hay solución de continuidad, como a veces se ha pretendido99, entre faida y exts

T guerra. Cualitativamente hablando, ésta es manifestación eventual de aquélla en parejo sentido

the al que hoy damos habitualmente a la guerra como manifestación circunstancial de las relaciones

o f internacionales. Desde luego, faida, que es vocablo de origen germánico al igual que guerra, como

se sabe, no es un término frecuente en las fuentes, por no decir que es del todo inexistente en las posteriores al siglo XIII salvo en el caso del alemán fehde. Creo, no obstante, que es menos equívoco

riginals que la expresión “guerra privada”; o que sirve, mejor, para evitar justamente el equívoco a que da O lugar la utilización de dicha expresión, tras la que late una idea sin duda moderna de la guerra que la asocia en exclusiva y por definición con la instancia estatal. Ciertamente, en la cultura del dere- cho común europeo, no sólo se tenía noción de la distinción entre público y privado, sino que esta distinción resultaba fundamental precisamente en la conceptualización del poder político, esto es, de la iurisdictio. Esta era definida, ya desde los tiempos de la glosa y sin cambios sustanciales en los siglos posteriores, como potestas de publico introducta cum necessitate iuris dicendi aequitatisque statuen-

91. Zmora, Hillay. The Feud in Early Modern Germany. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2011, sobre el que aprovechará además la recensión que le dedica Stuart Carroll en H-HRE, H-Net Reviews, octubre 2012 . 92. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seigneurial War and Royal Power in Later Medieval Southern France”. Past and Present, 208 (2010): 37-76. 93. Théry, Julien. “Faide nobiliaire et justice inquisitoire de la papauté à Sienne au temps des Neuf: les recollectiones d’une enquête de Benoît XII contre l’évêque Donosdeo de’ Malavolti (ASV. Collectoriae, 61A y 404ª)”, Als die Welt in die Akten kam: Prozeßschriftgut im europäischen Mittelalter, Susanne Lepsius, Thomas Wetzstein, eds. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2008: 275-345. 94. Gentile, Marco. Fazioni al governo: politica e sicietà a Parma nel Quattrocento. Roma: Viella, 2009. 95. Fernández de Larrea, Jon Andoni. “Las guerras privadas: el ejemplo de los bandos oñacino y gamboíno en el País Vasco”. Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 85-109; Urizar, Hiart. “Las guerras de bandos en Markina: una aproximación”. Vasconia, 38 (2012): 41-66. 96. Ponsoda, Santiago; Soler, Juan Leonardo. “Violencia nobiliaria en el sur del reino de Valencia a finales de la Edad Media”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante: Historia Medieval, 16 (2009-2010): 319-347. 97. Kaminsky, Howard. “The Noble Feud in the Later Middle Ages”. Past and Present, 177 (2002): 55-83; Armstrong, Jackson W. “Violence and Peacemaking in the English Marches towards Scotland, c. 1425-1440”, The Fifteenth Century 6: Identity and Insurgegency in the Late Middle Ages, Linda Clark, ed. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 2006: 53-72. 98. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 34-42. Por su parte, Carroll, Stuart. Blood and Violence in Early Modern France. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006: 7, afirma: “Feuding was integral to the conduct of politics in early modern Fran- ce because it was one of the key forms of competition for power, a mechanism by which the struggle for dominance was played out. Nevertheless, when kings were able to satisfy the ambitions of the social elite, feuds did no result in disorder or high levels of bloodletting”. 99. Más entre antropólogos que entre historiadores. Véase Notterstrøm, Jeppe Büchert. “Introduction: The Study of Feud in Medieval and Early Modern History”, Feud in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Jeppe B. Netterstrøm, Bjørn Poulsen, eds. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2007: 46-48.

400 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 dae100. Otra cosa es, sin embargo, que ello se tradujera en algo más que la delimitación del ámbito

de la iurisdictio con respecto a aquello que se situaba fuera de su alcance al quedar recluido en el n gl is h

ámbito doméstico, pues los juristas del ius commune, aun contando con fundamento y materiales E in adecuados para ello, no mostraron interés ni disposición alguna, como es sabido, a organizar la materia iuris en derecho público, por un lado, y derecho privado, por otro101. Entre otras razones, es justo esta arraigada reluctancia lo que, emplazado ante la cuestión de si “tiene sentido preguntarse si la faida era un arreglo de cuentas privado o un ‘conflicto internacional’”, lleva a Stefano Manno- ubm i tted S ni a responder: “no, con toda probablilidad y en el estadio actual de la historiografía si se quiere”102. no t En realidad, si no sonara demasiado enfático y hasta algo solemne, se podría decir que en el comienzo todo era faida; con sus privilegios, que los tenían, las guerras del rey incluidas103. O, si se e x t s prefiere, era guerra toda alteración, toda perturbación de la paz, cualquier forma de resolución de T

un conflicto mediante el recurso a la fuerza de las armas. Semejante trastorno podía producirse con the

mayor o menor aparato, implicar a un número mayor o menor de individuos, pero conceptual- o f mente no había diferencia. Y esta identificación con la guerra de una gama tan amplia y diversa de sucesos perdurará durante mucho tiempo, como ha sabido ver Merio Scattola: r i g in al s

Ancora nel Seicento gli autori politici continuano a chiedersi come debbano essere interpretate le diverse forme O di conflitto e rispondono che guerra è lo scontro tra autorità pubbliche, ma è anche il contrasto tra privati oppure quello misto tra persone private e persone pubbliche. Guerra è in primo luogo il duello, ma guerra sono allo stesso tempo anche le repressaliae, le faide tra casati nobili, tra città o tra altre forme di potestà, come guerra è la ’legittima difesa’ del magistrato inferiore contro i comandi iniqui del re e l’autodifesa del privato assalito da un predone, fosse costui anche l’imperatore in persona, quando la pubblica autorità non può intervenire in tempo 104

De acuerdo, como vimos, con una forma de razonamiento tópica y casuística, no axiomática, prudencial en suma y no epistémica, juristas y teólogos105 prescinden de una definición previa, de un concepto preestablecido, de una delimitación así estricta y fija de qué sea la guerra. Esta sim- plemente es parte de la fenomenología del conflicto, que es a su vez intrínseco a la realidad social y que no se constituye, en aquel modo de razonamiento, en objeto de teoría, sino en materia de aproximación desde la experiencia, múltiple y cambiante, con el fin de dar respuesta a los proble-

100. Véase Vallejo, Jesús. Ruda equidad...: 40-49. 101. Chevrier, Georges. “Remarques sur l’introduction et les vicissitudes de la distinction du ‘jus privatum’ et du ‘jus publicum’ dans les oeuvres des anciens juristes français”. Archives de philosophie du droit, 1 (1952): 5-77. Sobre la trascen- dencia en el orden político del asunto y el modo en que afecta a la práctica historiográfica, Schaub, Jean-Frédéric. “El pasado republicano del espacio público”, Los espacios públicos en Iberoamérica: ambigüedades y problemas: siglos XVIII-XIX, François-Xavier Guerra, Annick Lempérière, eds. México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1998: 27-53. 102. Mannoni, Stefano. “Relazioni internazionali”, Lo Stato moderno in Europa: istituzioni e diritto, Maurizio Fioravanti, ed. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2002: 206-229: 208. 103. Véase Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine de la guerre juste...: 76 y siguientes. 104. “Aún en el siglo XVII los autores políticos continúan preguntándose cómo deben ser interpretadas las diversas for- mas de conflicto, y responden que guerra es el enfrentamiento entre poderes públicos, pero también el desacuerdo entre particulares, o el de carácter mixto entre personas privadas y personas públicas. Guerra es en primer lugar el duelo, mas guerra son al mismo tiempo e igualmente las represaliae, las faide entre linajes nobles, entre ciudades o entre otras formas de potestad, como guerra es la ‘legítima defensa’ del magistrado inferior contra los mandamientos inicuos del rey y la autodefensa del particular agredido por un salteador, aunque se trate del mismo emperador, cuando la autoridad pública no logra intervenir a tiempo”. Scattola, Merio. “Introduzione”, Figure della guerra: la riflessione su pace, conflitto e giustizia tra Medioevo e prima età moderna, Merio Scattola, ed. Milán: Franco Angeli, 2003: 16-17. 105. Véase Villey, Michel. Questions de Saint Thomas sur le droit et la politique. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 1987.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 401 mas concretos y sustantivos que dicha materia plantea en cada caso relacionados con la justicia y

nglish la moral, con el orden del derecho y con el de la teología. De ahí, que la reflexión sobre la guerra

E no se traduzca en un saber autónomo, en un tema autosuficiente, y dé lugar, por el contrario, a in una tradición de pensamiento en torno a la guerra justa, o sea, acerca de las condiciones que debe reunir la guerra para no colisionar con los principios y valores que las mencionadas disciplinas tenían a su cargo normativizar. ubmitted Pero la práctica de la guerra entendida ampliamente como faida, que contemplaba e incluía S también como corolario fórmulas y ritos específicos de consecución y restablecimiento de la paz, n o t era muy anterior al inicio, no antes del siglo XII, de la tradición intelectual de la guerra justa, por más que esta última utilizara ciertamente en su configuración materiales igualmente anteriores106. exts

T Ya hemos tenido ocasión de referirnos más arriba a toda una historiografía centrada efectivamente

the en el estudio de los conflictos, de sus manifestaciones bélicas y de sus mecanismos de resolución

o f extrajudiciales en los siglos inmediatamente poscarolingios, un periodo que ha podido ser consi-

derado como “la edad de oro de la faide”107. ¿Cómo encararon posteriormente los artífices y quie- nes en general asumieron doctrinal y prácticamente la tradición de la guerra justa la extendida y

riginals perdurable realidad de la faida después de esa época como asimismo hemos tenido ya ocasión de O señalar? Dos eran los rasgos de mentalidad o de cultura que sustentaban la faida. Estaba, en primer lugar, la idea que hoy encerramos con reprobación por lo común en la locución “tomarse uno la justicia por su mano”. Se trataba, sin embargo, de una idea y de una práctica que bajo ciertas condiciones, que permitían básicamente apelar a la legítima defensa, podían encontrar aceptación y acomodo en la cultura escolástica y, en especial, en lo que era su expresión jurídica, el ius commune, máxime cuando éste entenderá siempre el recurso a la guerra como una exsecutio iuris, tanto más lícita cuan- to que fuera un particular provisto de iurisdictio —así también instancia pública— quien la activara y llevase a efecto108. Es verdad que, ya desde el siglo XIII en las regiones más urbanizadas de la geografía europea, otros desarrollos —y otros valores, por tanto— actuarán lentamente en sentido contrario. Sin salir del terreno del derecho, la apertura de un mayor margen de iniciativa en favor del juez —y vale aquí decir de un poder político— en el ámbito procesal, que le permitirá actuar inquisitoriamente ex officio y que no se dudará en justificar, formalmente, recurriendo a la costum- bre, no a la ley, e invocando en cuanto al fondo el novedoso principio consistente en afirmar que la injuria, no sólo daña a su víctima, sino que ofende también a la civitas o communitas, al atentar con- tra la pax publica, estará entonces en el punto de partida de un cambio de rumbo en la historia de la justicia penal de indudables consecuencias para el componente de venganza consustancial a la faida109. He ahí un buen ejemplo, por lo demás, de las tendencias no siempre concurrentes, cuando no contradictorias, que podían darse en el seno del ius commune y que, a fin de cuentas, reflejaban las que, con el mismo signo, existían en la propia realidad social que aquél trataba de ordenar. Paralelamente, la multiplicación asimismo desde el siglo XIII de discursos exaltadores del valor de

106. Véase Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine de la guerre juste...: 11 y siguientes. 107. Haggenmacher, Peter. Grotius et la doctrine de la guerre juste...: 81. 108. Quaglioni, Diego. “Le ragioni della guerra e della pace”, Pace e guerra nel basso medioevo: atti del XL Convegno storico internazionale (Todi, oct. 2003). Spoleto: Fondazione Centro Italiano di Studi Sull' Alto Medio Evo, 2004: 113-129; Qua- glioni, Diego. “Pour une histoire du droit de guerre...”. 109. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Vidi communiter observari: l’emmersione di un ordine penale pubblico nelle città italiane del secolo XIII”. Quaderni fiorentini per la storia del pensiero giuridico moderno, 27 (1998): 232-268.

402 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 la paz como fundamento del orden social, doblados a veces de movimientos de pacificación, como

ocurrió singularmente en las ciudades italianas, tuvieron también en su punto de mira la práctica n gl is h de la vendetta, si bien a este respecto no debe desatenderse la oportuna observación de Andrea Zorzi E in en el sentido de que “i valori del discorso politico non erano neutri, ma appartenevano a un registro vari- abile declinato nel vivo del conflitto politico110, lo que aconseja evitar la conclusión de una antítesis ab- soluta y general entre discurso enaltecedor de la paz, por un lado, y práctica vindicatoria, por otro. Porque, en efecto, la paz, lejos de ser incompatible o ajena, era la otra cara de la moneda de la ubm i tted S faida, su segunda seña de identidad cultural. Una paz, eso sí, entendida antes como mantenimien- no t to y continua renovación de un orden y un equilibrio considerados naturales que no como mera ausencia de guerra; y una paz, asimismo, no impuesta, sino lograda por medio del resarcimiento e x t s mutuo y confiada por ello a la amenaza permanente de guerra, sí, pero también al pacto y la ne- T

gociación. En este aspecto tampoco le faltaba capacidad de encaje al derecho común europeo para the

integrar la faida, pues compartía igualmente el presupuesto de la existencia de un orden natural o f inmutable que alcanzaba a la realidad social y que era preciso salvaguardar a toda costa en tanto se identificaba con la justicia misma. El desenvolvimiento, de ese derecho, no obstante, también abri-

ría la puerta a una forma distinta de conseguir ese objetivo que acabaría prevaleciendo y que no r i g in al s dejaría de tener consecuencias en relación con la guerra, su propia noción y su práctica. Por decirlo O recurriendo a una afortunada y expresiva fórmula, esa puerta era la que conducía de una justicia negociada y comunitaria de índole restaurativa a otra hegemónica o de aparato y de carácter pu- nitivo111; o, con otro enunciado no menos intuitivamente revelador, del orden de la paz al orden público112. Crimen fractae pacis publicae constituunt etiam diffidationes, seu bella priuatorum, podrá leerse poco después de 1750 en un manual de lo que hoy llamaríamos derecho penal, no olvidando toda- vía su autor el contraste que ello suponía con unos tiempos pasados que explícitamente señalaba anteriores al Seiscientos, pues aquellas guerras,que ya no cabía llamar tales sin especificar,olim, vi iuris manuarii, omnibus, summis et imis permissa, quia ius belli gerendi tunc temporis non erat regale, vt hodie113. Se hablaba en ese paso de delitos contra securitatem et vtilitatem publicam y el manual era alemán, pero el diagnóstico valía, en líneas generales, para toda Europa. Las novedades y cambios de orientación susodichos, apenas insinuados algunos hacia el siglo XIII, tardarían, pues, siglos en afirmarse y desplazar o subordinar ideas y usos anteriores, tantos que, incluso sin desbordar los límites cronológicos correspondientes a la vigencia del ius commune, sólo incurriendo en una perspectiva exageradamente teleológica cabe prescindir de los últimos, o

110. “los valores del discurso político no eran neutros, se adscribían a un registro variable adaptado en cada ocasión a las circunstancias del conflicto político”. Zorzi, Andrea. Fracta“ est civitas magna in tres partes: conflitto e costituzione nell’Italia comunale”. Scienza & Politica, 39 (2008): 61-87. Sobre la proliferación del motivo de la paz en sermones y discursos políticos: Prêcher la paix et discipliner la société: Italie, France, Angleterre (XIIIe-XVe siècles), ed. Rosa Maria Dessi. Turnhout: Brepols, 2005; Offenstadt, Nicolas. Faire la paix au Moyen Âge: discours et gestes de paix pendant la guerre de Cent Ans. París: Odile Jacob, 2007. 111. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia negoziata, giustizia egemonica: riflessioni su una nueva fase degli studi di storia della giustizia criminale”, Criminalità e giustizia in Germania e in Italia: pratiche giudiziarie e linguaggi giuridici tra tardo medioevo ed età moderna, Marco Bellabarba, Gerd Schwerhoff, Andrea Zorzi, eds. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2001: 345-364; Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale”, Lo Stato moderno in Europa: istituzioni e diritto, Maurizio Fioravanti, ed. Roma-Bari: Laterza: 2002: 163-205. 112. Povolo, Claudio. “Dall’ordine della pace all’ordine pubblico: uno sguardo da Venezia e il suo stato territoriale (secoli XVI-XVIII)”, Processo e difesa penale in età moderna: Venezia e il suo stato territoriale, Claudio Povolo, ed. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2007: 15-107. 113. Meister, Christian Georg Friedrich. Principia iuris criminalis Germaniae communis. Gotinga: Victorino Bossiegel, 1780: 242. La primera edición es de 1755.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 403 condenarlos desde el inicio a una posición secundaria, a la hora de proceder a la reconstrucción

nglish historiográfica de los siglos bajomedievales y altomodernos. No faltan argumentos para sostener

E que el ensamblaje de todas las piezas que integran lo que suele comúnmente denominarse doctri- in na de la guerra justa no se produciría en realidad sino hacia 1500114. Y una de esas piezas, la que reservaba al príncipe soberano la exclusiva de mandar hacer guerra, ya sabemos que no suscitaría una adhesión incontrastada hasta finales del siglo XVI. En esas condiciones, las dos vertientes o ubmitted notas características de la faida que acabamos de ver, no exentas de amparo en el proteico y poliva- S lente sistema del derecho común115, aún gozarían por mucho tiempo de vitalidad. Pudo así seguir n o t desplegándose después del siglo XIII toda una bien arraigada cultura de la venganza, en absoluto inconciliable con la caritas116 ni siempre con la misericordia117, cada vez más atendida y mejor cono- exts 118 T cida hoy por los historiadores . Y los dos modos de justicia mencionados, la justicia negociada y la

the justicia de aparato, lejos de excluirse mutuamente y de desplazar sin más la segunda a la primera,

o f se entrelazarán de manera tal que ha podido hablarse de una auténtica ósmosis entre ambas du-

rante todo el Antiguo Régimen, lo que llevó a Mario Sbriccoli a concluir:

riginals L’attitudine negoziale e l’idea della ritorsione verranno bandite dal campo penale soltanto con l’arrivo della

O codificazione, dopo la svolta epocale originata dalla Rivoluzione francese: ma anche l’assolutismo dei codici dovrà fare i conti con la lunga durata e adattare il suo passo a quello, ben più lento, della cultura dei popoli e delle persone. 119

Las partes en el proceso judicial, en efecto, se servían en realidad de éste en no pocas ocasiones para perfeccionar un acuerdo previo, no para evidenciar la imposibilidad de alcanzarlo; o como ins- trumento de presión en el curso de una negociación120. Eran estrategias que no sólo mostraban la preferencia inicial de los actores sociales por las formas de justicia más tradicionales y menos efec-

114. Johnson, James Turner. Ideology, Reason, and the Limitation of War: Religious and Secular Concepts, 1200-1740. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975: 8. 115. Claudio Povolo escribe: Il complessivo discorso giuridico conosciuto come ‘diritto comune’, lungo dall'attestare l'affermazione di una giustizia espressione egemonica della ‘state law’, era funzionale al mantenimento di quel sistema giuridico comunitario, carat- terizzato da un'innata vocazione comprissoria e dalla faida (“El discurso jurídico global conocido como derecho común”, “lejos de atestiguar la afirmación de una justicia que expresaba la hegemonía de lastate law, era funcional al mantenimiento de aquel sistema jurídico comunitario caracterizado por una innata vocación compromisoria y por la faida”). (Povolo, Claudio. “Dall’ordine della pace...”: nota 8). Mario Sbriccoli, por su parte, hablaba de “la lógica anti-imperativística del derecho común” (Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale, giustizia egemonica...”: 170). 116. Véase Throop, Susanna A. Crusading as an Act of Vengeance, 1095-1216. Farnham: Ashgate, 2011. 117. Véase Buc, Philippe, “Some Thoughts on the Christian Theology of Violence, Medieval and Modern, from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution”. Rivista di Storia del Cristianesimo, 5/1 (2008): 9-28. 118. Vengeance in Medieval Europe: A Reader, Daniel Lord Smail, Kelly Gibson eds. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009; Hyams, Paul R. Rancor and Reconciliation in Medieval England. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003; Vengeance in the Middle Ages: Emotion, Religion and Feud, Susanna A. Throop, Paul R. Hyams eds. Farnham: Ashgate, 2010; Nassiet, Michel. La violence, une histoire sociale: France XVIe-XVIIIe siècles. Seyssel: Champ Vallon, 2011: maxime capítulos 4 (“Vengeance et faide”) y 9 (“La culture de vengeance dans les guerres de religion”); Carroll, Stuart. Martyrs and Murderers: The Guise Family and the Making of Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009; Miller, William Ian. Eye for an eye. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2006. 119. “La actitud negociadora y la idea de la retorsión serán desterradas del campo penal únicamente con la llegada de la codificación, después del cambio de época originado por la Revolución francesa: pero también el absolutismo de los códigos deberá arreglar cuentas con la larga duración y adaptar su paso al de la cultura de los pueblos y de las personas, mucho más lento”. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale...”: 172. 120. Véase el monográfico sobre “Procedure di giustizia”, Renata Ago, Simona Cerutti, eds.Quaderni storici, 101 (1999): 107-473.

404 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 tistas o teatrales121 —menos costosas seguramente también—, sino igualmente la vigencia como

vimos del principio ideológico de subordinación de la iustitia a la caritas, del carácter en suma sub- n gl is h sidiario del derecho con respecto a la religión122. Los propios jueces compartían este presupuesto E in y alentaban la consecución de acuerdos entre las partes cuando el proceso resultaba inevitable, al tiempo que no dudaban en compaginar una concepción represiva y ejemplarizante de la pena con una consideración de ésta como anche luogo e occasione per il recupero della dimensione ’negoziale’ del giudizio, fondata sulla consuetudine, sull’equità, sulla misericordia123. ubm i tted S Es más, las sentencias y decisiones judiciales —que no había que motivar y que no dejaban no t de tener en cuenta tampoco el intuitus personae— no pasaban de ser a veces más que un episodio intermedio instrumentalizado luego por las partes de cara al verdadero final negociado del con- e x t s flicto, como con lucidez se ha puesto de manifiesto recientemente a propósito de los numerosos T

enfrentamientos y guerras aristocráticas que tuvieron como escenario el sur de Francia durante the

124 el siglo XIV . Del mismo modo que en el transcurso de aquellas guerras también tuvieron ese o f mismo valor instrumental y nada concluyente las frecuentes ordenanzas regias que las restringían o prohibían125. El papel de los oficiales reales se asemejó así más al de auténticos árbitros y media-

dores en función de su estatus —que no propiamente de su oficio— cuya actuación, no obstante, r i g in al s coadyuvó resueltamente en el arreglo de dichos conflictos a la vez que servía para incrementar la O presencia del poder central en las tramas de poder local y regional, más mediante su implicación en tales compromisos que no a través de la coerción. Algo parecido a lo que ha podido afirmarse igualmente acerca de stati regionali italiani di epoca moderna, che solo con molta difficoltà riuscivano a ga- rantire il mantenimento di un ordine pubblico costantemente minacciato dalle dinamiche fazionarie y en los que gli stessi giusdicenti locali si vedevano istituzionalmente investiti di funzioni più di tipo politico-mediatorie che di amministrazione della giustizia stricto sensu126. Y es que el camino hacia la afirmación de un “derecho penal público” desde sus balbuceos en el siglo XIII no fue cosa de dos días, sino una lunga e tormentata storia, por decirlo de nuevo con palabras de quien fue uno de sus más perspicaces cono- cedores127. La criminalización de la faida y la consiguiente acotación del derecho y del concepto de guerra fue un capítulo de esa historia, un capítulo únicamente concluido hacia 1600, coincidiendo no por casualidad con lo que los historiadores consideran el momento álgido del bandolerismo y el bandidismo de Antiguo Régimen, un fenómeno cuyos protagonistas en muchos casos, como ha

121. Sobre el proceso penal como “teatro del poder”, Povolo, Claudio. “Dall’ordine della pace...”. 122. Véase también Broggio, Paolo, “Linguaggio religioso e disciplinamento nobiliare: il «modo di ridurre a pace l’inimicitie private» nella trattatistica di età barocca”, I linguaggi del potere nell’età barocca 1. Politica e religione, Francesca Cantù, ed. Roma: Viella, 2009: 275-317. 123. “lugar y ocasión también para la recuperación de la dimensión ‘negocial’ del juicio, fundada en la costumbre, la equidad, la misericordia”. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Giustizia criminale”...: 171. Véase asimismo Alessi, Giorgia. Il processo penale: profilo storico. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 2007: 97 y siguientes. 124. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio: the settlement of seigneurial disputes in later medieval Languedoc”. French History, 26/4 (2012): 441-459. 125. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio: the settlement...”: 447-449; también Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seigneu- rial war and royal power...”: 51-60. 126. “los stati regionali italianos de época moderna, que solo con mucha dificultad lograban garantizar el mantenimiento de un orden público constantemente amenazado por las dinámicas faccionarias”; ”los propios judicantes locales se veían institucionalmente investidos de funciones más de tipo político-mediadoras que de administración de la justicia stricto sensu”. Broggio, Paolo. “Linguaggio religioso e disciplinamento nobiliare...”: 284. 127. “larga y tormentosa historia”. Sbriccoli, Mario. “Vidi communiter observari...”: 254.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 405 podido mostrarse, parecen haber sido más bien “hijos de la faida antes que de la miseria”128. Como

nglish tampoco resulta plausible achacar entonces a la casualidad, en fin, que fuera en el siglo XVII, jus-

E tamente, cuando la historiografía comenzara a hablar de manera retrospectiva y con reprobación in de “guerras privadas”129. Hasta entonces, también el lenguaje fue campo de batalla. Aunque ni en la forma ni en el fondo hubiese diferencias sustanciales entre las guerras del príncipe y las emprendidas por otros señores ubmitted —más allá obviamente de la creciente asimetría en la fuerza que uno y otros podían movilizar—, S ha podido constatarse cómo desde el entorno del primero se evitará cuidadosamente la denomi- n o t nación de guerra para las segundas frente a la abierta utilización del vocablo por los contendientes implicados en éstas130. Era otra manera de empujar la realidad por un camino y en una dirección exts

T precisas, esta vez mediante el recurso a un uso selectivo del lenguaje que no sólo aspiraba a des-

the cribir la experiencia sino a configurarla asimismo en un determinado sentido; el recurso, ya se

o f sabe, que tan bien conocía Humpty Dumpty como tuvo oportunidad de comprobar Alicia. En la

Edad Media tardía y en la temprana Edad Moderna, tanto más importante era la retórica como parte de la acción política cuanto que la communis opinio forjada por los juristas, fuente principal

riginals de la civilis sapientia y en la que dicha acción habría de buscar siempre legitimarse, no se resolvía O necesariamente, como ya sabemos, en la existencia de una única postura o parecer indiscutibles. La misma acción podía conceptuarse, por ejemplo, como rebelión o como resistencia, entenderse como una ofensa merecedora de castigo o como un ejercicio de defensa lícita, afrontarse, en fin, como crimen laesae maiestatis o interpretarse como acción legítima de quienes habent iustam causam superioribus resistendi131.

128. Torres, Xavier. “Faida y bandolerismo en la Cataluña de los XVI y XVII”, Diritto@Storia, 2 (2003) , con la versión italiana en “Faide e banditismo nella Catalogna dei secoli XVI e XVII”, Banditismi mediterranei (secoli XVI-XVII), Francesco Manconi, ed. Roma: Carocci, 2003. Véase tam- bién Torres, Xavier. “Guerra privada y bandolerismo en la Cataluña del Barroco”. Historia social, 1 (1988): 5-18; Povolo, Claudio. “La conflittualità nobiliare in Italia nella seconda metà del Cinquecento. il caso della Repubblica di Venezia: al- cune ipotesi e possibili interpretazioni”. Atti dell’Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Letter e ed Arti, 151 (1992-1993): 89-139; Povolo, Claudio. “Retoriche giudizarie, dimensioni del penale e prassi processuale nella Repubblica di Venezia: da Lorenzo Priori ai pratici settecenteschi”, L’amministrazione della giustizia penale nella Repubblica di Venezia (secoli XVI-XVIII), II: Retoriche, stereotipi, prassi, Claudio Povolo, Giovanni Chiodi, eds. Verona: Cierre Edizioni, 2004: 19-170. 129. Cange, Charles du Fresne du. “Des guerres privées et du droit de guerre par coutume”, Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis. Graz: Akademische Druck-u. Verlagsanstalt, 1954: X, 100-108. Las expresiones bellum publicum y bellum pri- vatum pueden encontrarse ciertamente en las fuentes doctrinales medievales, mucho más tempranamente la primera y decididamente más tardía, a partir del siglo XIV, la segunda, introducida seguramente ésta última, tras un aislado prece- dente en la Summa de Tomás de Aquino, por el reflejo romanizante de los juristas. Véase Haggenmacher, Peter.Grotius et la doctrine...: 83, 114 y siguientes, señalando también la inexistencia de una distinción semántica relevante entre bellum y guerra. Las fuentes de la práctica utilizan la expresión guerra publica para calificar las guerras señoriales del siglo XIV en el Languedoc, mientras que la expresión antónima no comparece en ellas nunca. Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Seineurial war...”: 38 (nota 4); véase Firnhaber-Baker, Justine. “Jura in medio...”: 445. El Árbol de batallas, en la estela de Giovanni da Legnano, contrapone en algún pasaje guerra particular y general. Véase Árbol de batallas: versión castellana...: 125; L’arbre des batailles d’Honoré Bonet...: 229. 130. Véase Gamberini, Andrea. “Le parole della guerra nel ducato di Milano: un linguaggio cetuale”, Linguaggi politici nell’Italia del Rinascimento, Andrea Gamberini, Giuseppe Petralia, eds. Roma: Viella, 2007: 445-467. 131. Esta última frase procede de la Disquisitio prior iuridica con que las ciudades italianas se defendieron contra Enri- que VII en 1313. Véase Benedictis, Angela de. Tumulti: moltitudini ribelli in età moderna. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2013: 107 y siguientes. Sobre la relación entre estrategias discursivas y acción política véase también el rico ejemplo que analiza Bellabarba, Marco. “Ordine congiunto e ordine stratificato: note su diritto di faida e territorio nel tardo Medioevo”, Chiesa cattolica e mondo moderno: scritti in onore di Paolo Prodi, Adriano Prosperi, Pierangelo Schiera, Gabriella Zarri, eds. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2007: 387-401, y con carácter general, Gamberini, Andrea. “The language of politics and the process of state-building: approaches and interpretations”, The Italian Renaissance State, Andrea Gamberini, Isabella Lazzarini, eds. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012: 406-424.

406 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 Hay quien sostiene que la violencia bélica se incrementó en el periodo comprendido entre 1500 132 y 1700 . Ya tuvimos ocasión de indicar que no es una opinión hoy unánime. Al fin y al cabo, n gl is h como ha escrito Francesco Benigno con rotundidad y penetración, “la violencia no es una cosa, es E in un juicio”133. Las guerras de Italia, primero, y las guerras de religión, después, tiñeron de sangre el occidente europeo, no obstante, durante todo el siglo XVI. En un contexto modificado como con- secuencia de la proximidad de la amenaza turca y de la insospechada ampliación de la ecúmene, así como por el efecto que en la difusión y en la interpretación cruzada de todo ello debió de tener ubm i tted S el desarrollo de la imprenta, la percepción de la guerra, en un siglo que conoció asimismo nuovi e no t sanguinosi modi di guerreggiare, en palabras de Guicciardini134, también debió de experimentar cam- bios significativos. El descubrimiento de la barbarie interior, en el seno de la propia Cristiandad e x t s rota, y el desdibujamiento de las diferencias con el bárbaro externo o con la nueva humanidad T

salvaje fueron sin duda una novedad que habría de marcar desde entonces, en uno u otro sentido, the

135 la historia europea y los discursos sobre ella . La centralidad de la guerra en la reflexión sobre el o f modo de organizar la convivencia de los europeos también136, con enormes consecuencias políti- cas, verdaderamente, a largo plazo.

Pero de la faida no se pasó directamente al monopolio de la guerra por el Estado. No es esa la r i g in al s conclusión que debe extraerse de la criminalización de la primera y la restricción del concepto O mismo de la segunda una vez que el ius ad bellum se convirtió efectivamente en prerrogativa ex- clusiva del príncipe y la guerra pasó a ser ante todo guerra externa, guerra entre príncipes. Como recién veíamos, la sola posibilidad de que la resistencia interna y el recurso para ello a las armas, por no hablar del tiranicidio, pudiera contemplarse jurídicamente como una opción lícita137 venía a matizar, si no a desmentir, que la identificación de la guerra con el príncipe fuera un auténtico monopolio. Con respecto al exterior, por otro lado, si únicamente la Guerra de los Treinta Años consiguió arruinar de forma definitiva todo sueño de monarquía universal138, el nuevo orden in- ternacional surgido de los frágiles tratados de paz de los años 40 y 50 del siglo XVII no parece que trajera consigo una redefinición radical de los sujetos políticos que entonces actuaban en el tablero geopolítico europeo, por más que el “mito de Westfalia” siga recitándose en la actualidad como el

132. Como Reinhardt, Wolfgang. Storia del potere politico in Europa. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2001: 421 y siguientes. 133. Benigno, Francesco. Las palabras del tiempo...: 172. 134. “Largo y sangriento modo de guerrear”. En su Storia d’Italia, pero tomo la cita de Fournel, Jean-Louis, Zancarini, Jean-Claude. La grammaire de la république: langages de la politique chez Francesco Guicciardini (1483-1540). Ginebra: Droz, 2009: 376. 135. Schaub, Jean-Frédéric.“’Nous, les barbares’: expansion européenne et découverte de la fragilité intérieure”, Histoire du monde au XVe siècle. 2: Temps et devenirs du monde, Patrick Boucheron dir. París: Fayard: 2012: 672-700; Scuccimarra, Luca. I confini del mondo: storia del cosmopolitismo dall’Antichità al Settecento. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 2006: 189 y siguientes. 136. Véase Fournel, Jean-Louis. “Dire autrement la politique et la guerre européennes (XVIe-XVIIe siècles)”, Guerres, conflits, violence: l’état de la recherche. París: Autrement, 2010: 32-35; Barbier, Maurice. La modernité politique. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 2000: 50-54. 137. Benedictis, Angela de. Politica, governo e istituzioni...: 297 y siguientes; Benedictis, Angela de. “Abattere I tiranni, pu- nire I rebelli: diritto e violenza negli interdetti del Rinascimento”. Rechtsgeschichte, 11 (2007): 76-93; Benedictis, Angela de. “Resisting Public Violence: Actions, Law and Emotions”, Finding Europe: Discourses on Margins, Communities, Images, Anthony Molho, Diogo Ramada Curto, eds. Nueva York-Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2007: 273-290; Benedictis, Angela de. Tumulti... ; Jouanna, Arlette. Le devoir de révolte: la noblesse française et la gestation de l’État moderne, 1559-1661. París: Fa- yard, 1989; Turchetti, Mario. Tyrannie et tyrannicide de l’Antiquité à nos jours. París: Presses Universitaires de France, 2001. 138. Pero véase Rosbach, Franz. Monarchia universalis: storia di un concetto cardine della politica europea (secoli XVI-XVIII). Milán: Vita e Pensiero, 1998.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 407 del alumbramiento de un primer sistema moderno de Estados139. Lejos de ello, era justo por esas

nglish fechas, no obstante, cuando comenzaba a imaginarse tan solo o barruntarse siquiera, con la guerra

E bien presente en su realidad histórica y como desencadenante lógico, la doble idea de un Estado in como artificio político y de un individuo comopersona , las dos invenciones que, éstas sí, traerían consigo un vuelco drástico hacia la modernidad política. Pero aún habría de transcurrir casi un siglo y medio más para que, al menos en el continente, el Leviatán cobrase vida en un doloroso ubmitted parto y, mediante la expropiación a las antiguas personas que la tenían de toda iurisdictio —de todo S poder político—, dejase así a éstas reducidas, entonces sí, a meros sujetos privados. n o t ¿La guerra hizo el Estado fisco mediante? Para el periodo aquí bajo consideración, cabe al menos dudarlo140. No se trata solamente de que la tesis —an essentially outside-in and above-below exts

T explanation—rezume gran dosis del viejo postulado rankeano del primado de la política exterior y

the descuide la variada dialéctica social y política interna presente en cada caso, como se ha argüido

o f desde una perspectiva de political marxism que mantiene vivo el otrora más apreciado y atendido

debate sobre la transición del feudalismo al capitalismo141. Ni es solo cuestión tampoco de las prisas que llevan a algunos a predicar la consumación en exceso temprana de ese ménage à trois, como ha 142 riginals sido llamado con ingenio ; ni de que el artilugio explicativo formado por esas tres piezas tenga O cierto aire de mecanismo de selección natural de Estados con un sesgo marcadamente teleológico, “a veces de la peligrosa teleología dirigida a explicar qué nos ha hecho superiores”143. Son éstos in- convenientes propios de la historia a zancadas en que tiende a incurrir la sociología histórica y que mueve a ésta a confundir causas con condiciones de posibilidad. Pero antes que de todo eso, de lo que se trata en relación con la dificultad para admitir sin rechistar aquella tan sorprendentemente exitosa y extendida fórmula tripartita144 es de un problema conceptual, a saber, el que subyace tras la asimilación tácita o explícita que acostumbra a hacerse entre el príncipe y el Estado145, una asi- milación de la que suele traer razón el que se tenga erróneamente por obvio qué sea el derecho o

139. Véase desde distintas perspectivas, Osiander, Andreas. “Sovereignty, International Relations, and the Westphalian Myth”. International Organization, 55 (2001): 251-287; Teschke, Benno. The Myth of 1648: Class, Geopolitics and the Making of Modern International Relations. Londres: Verso, 2003. 140. Como cabe igualmente matizar una respuesta afirmativa para la propia época contemporánea: “warfare is not more than a catalyst of state building but to ignite and sustain fire one needs solid and durable wood”, escribe Siniša Malešević, quien cree imprescindible la intervención también en el proceso de factores ideológicos que proporcionen cohesión social y legitimación política. Véase Malešević, Siniša. “Did Wars Make Nation-States in the Balkans?: Nationa- lisms, Wars and States in the 19th and early 20th Century South East Europe”. Journal of Historical Sociology, 25/3 (2012): 299-330, la cita en p. 324. 141. Véase Techke, Benno. “Revisiting the ‘War-Makes-States’ Thesis: War, Taxation and Social Property Relations in Early Modern Europe”, War, the State and International Law in Seventeenth-Century Europe, Olaf Asbach, Peter Schröder, eds. Farnham: Ashgate, 2010: 35-59, la cita entre guiones largos, en p. 42. 142. Carocci, Sandro; Simone M. Collavini. “The Cost of States: Politics and Exactions in the Christian West (Sixth to Fifteenth Centuries)”, Diverging Paths? The Shapes of Power and Institutions in Medieval Christendom and Islam, John Hudson, Ana Rodríguez eds. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2014: 125-158: 148, con versión italiana también en Storica, 52 (2012): 7-48: 36. 143. Carocci, Sandro; Simone M. Collavini. “The Cost of States: Politics and Exactions...”. 144. “The broad consensus and widespread unanimity across the disciplines of history, historical sociology and Inter- national Relations on the significance of internal nexus between war —or, more broadly, geopolitical competition— taxation and early modern state-formation constitutes”, en opinión de Benno Teschke, “an exceptional rarity in the field of human enquiry”. (‘El amplio consenso y generalizada unaminidad en las disciplinas de historia, sociología his- tórica y relaciones internacionales sobre el significado del nexo interno entre guerra o, más ampliamente, competición geopolítica—, taxación y formación de los estados del inicio de la edad moderna; una rara excepción en el corpo de la investigación humana’). Véase “Revisiting the ‘War-Makes-States’ Thesis...”: 35. 145. Para el contraste entre ambos, en cambio, Schaub, Jean Fréderic. “Sobre el concepto de Estado”. Historia Contem- poránea, 28 (2004): 47-51.

408 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 la ley por ejemplo, como ya vimos, o igualmente qué sea el fisco. Mas con prerrogativas, cierto, que

a todas luces le diferenciaban como cabeza de un “cuerpo místico”, también con tareas y funciones n gl is h específicas reconocidas y la aceptación asimismo de que debía contar con los medios adecuados E in para cumplirlas, en aquel modelo de organización política que se ha dado en llamar jurisdiccional y al que fundamentalmente respondía la arquitectura de los reinos y repúblicas europeos durante los siglos XIII a XVIII, el príncipe, ya fuera éste una persona individual o colectiva, no era el Estado, era un estado, pues para que se convirtiera en lo primero y dejase de ser lo segundo resultaba preciso ubm i tted S cambiar la naturaleza del ordenamiento. no t ¿Por qué habría de necesitar la competición militar bajomedieval, primero, y altomoderna, des- pués, de una transformación de sus principales partícipes en un sentido estatal? Fue un resultado e x t s contingente, se dirá. Entonces, ¿por qué organizar el relato a partir de ese resultado, privilegiando T

su punto de vista? ¿No consiguió Inglaterra convertirse en el siglo XVIII en una potencia militar, the

financiada con una fortísima política impositiva de la que era responsable, no el rey, sino el Par- o f lamento, y sin que ello alterase sustancialmente un sistema institucional y de gobierno de corte típicamente jurisdiccional?146 La evolución seguida por los reinos y repúblicas del continente fue

con seguridad distinta y variada, y a ello debió de contribuir una más acuciante y continuada pre- r i g in al s sión militar mutua de la que se vio aligerado aquel reino insular. Pero lo que decisivamente marcó O la diferencia fue, sin duda, el dispar grado de integración corporativa alcanzado en cada caso, que obedecía a la particular historia formativa propia, condicionaba el modelo fiscal y determinaba el nivel de cohesión territorial y política. Si ello obligó a recurrir a formas de gobierno informales o, en sentido literal, extraordinarias, al objeto de agilizar la consecución de un objetivo o incrementar la eficacia si acaso en la gestión de un asunto, como en efecto se hizo con frecuencia en relación con los asuntos militares, ya sabemos que tales expedientes encontraban justificación habitual, aunque no siempre pacífica, en las dimensionesoeconomica y absoluta del poder del príncipe. No eran algo, por tanto, del todo ajeno a un orden institucional de carácter jurisdiccional; ni podían —por razones materiales y culturales en la que no podemos ahora entrar— ni pretendían ser expo- nente de una nueva lógica o racionalidad estatal y su utilización, incluso donde alcanzó una mayor intensidad, como sucedió en Francia, si bien permitió el desarrollo de una burocracia paralela, ésta no se planteó como alternativa a las antiguas magistraturas, no se configuró, en definitiva, de acuerdo con la ‘moderna’ contrapposizione tra chi giudica e chi amministra147. Hubo fórmulas y mecanismos mediante los cuales los principales poderes políticos europeos anteriores al siglo XIX pudieron disponer de una eficaz y nada desdeñable fuerza militar sin que ello se viese acompañado de un despliegue burocrático insólito, de una capacidad coercitiva redo- blada o de cualquier otro de los supuestos que se suelen traer a colación cuando el argumento se enfoca con una perspectiva de state-building. El recurso a “empresas militares”, cuyo florecimiento durante todo el periodo bajomedieval y altomoderno se ha destacado últimamente, fue sin duda una de esas fórmulas148. Y es que la misma historiografía que no termina de desembarazarse del

146. Bien que el papel de la jurisprudencia del ius commune correspondiese allí, como es sabido, a la de un diferenciado common law. Sobre lo dicho en el texto véase Mannori, Luca; Sordi, Bernardo. Storia del diritto amministrativo...: 79 y siguientes, también para lo que sigue. 147. “La ‘moderna’ contraposición entre quien juzga y quien administra”. Mannori, Luca; Sordi, Bernardo. Storia del diritto amministrativo...: 100-101. 148. Parrott, David. The Business of War: Military Enterprise and Military Revolution in Early Modern Europe. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2012; War, Entrepreneurs, and the State in Europe and the Mediterranean, 1300-1800, Jeff Fynn- Paul, ed. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2014.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 409 Estado como concepto, como realidad institucional o como herramienta de análisis del Antiguo Ré-

nglish gimen no puede por menos que subrayar de manera creciente en las últimas décadas la debilidad

E del mismo, la enorme brecha entre su retórica y la realidad del poder que era capaz de ejercer, su in dependencia de la negociación y el acuerdo con los poderes periféricos o locales. ¿Qué clase de Le- viatán era ése? ¿No sería ya mejor aceptar que se trata de un espejismo y declarar su inexistencia? Se correrá el peligro, de otra manera, de quedar atrapados en su lógica; o, en el mejor de los casos, ubmitted se dificultará la apreciación de otra que poco o nada tenía de estatal. S Dominique Barthélemy, tras batirse contra el mutacionismo del año 1000, se declaró en cam- n o t bio una vez convencidamente mutacionista tratándose del siglo XII, un siglo, decía, que dividía la historia medieval en dos épocas149. La faida y una justicia informal habrían dominado las formas de exts

T establecimiento del orden en el primer periodo, al que habrían puesto fin a partir del mencionado

the siglo un derecho savant y la “génesis del Estado moderno”. Hasta la más avezada historiografía

o f sobre la Alta Edad Media termina dando por evidentes para lo que siguió cosas que no debiera.

Una muy reciente y minuciosa reconstrucción de la campaña que el futuro Luis XI de Francia, al frente de un gran ejército compuesto mayoritariamente por mercenarios, llevó a cabo en la región

riginals del Alto Rin entre julio de 1444 y marzo de 1445 pone claramente de manifiesto, por el contrario, O cómo la intrincada red de múltiples poderes de diferente radio que se entrelazaban, solapaban y competían en la región, la estrategia autónomamente decidida de cada uno de ellos, las cambiantes y entrecruzadas alianzas o el importante papel político jugado en ese contexto por el Concilio de Basilea como instancia arbitral y de mediación entre los contendientes configuran un escenario del que difícilmente puede dar razón adecuada the language of nationhood and state-formation150. Y es que a lo que dio paso en realidad el siglo XII fue a una cultura política jurisdiccional que los historia- dores han tendido a ignorar considerando que se trataba simplemente de la antesala de la cultura política estatal. Toda una etapa de la historia europea se pierde de ese modo. Y es lástima, porque prestarle la atención que merece ayuda a entender que el advenimiento del Estado no era algo ne- cesario e inevitable; fue una opción, como también lo fue en su momento, constitución mediante, una modernidad jurisdiccional151. Pero esto, como suele decirse, es otra historia.

5. Conclusiones

For people’s beliefs about a political system are not something outside of it, they are part of it. Those beliefs, however they are formed or determined, do determine the limits and possible development of the system; they determine what people will put up with, and what they will demand.152

149. Barthélemy, Dominique. “La vengeance, le jugement et le compromis”, Le règlement des conflits au Moyen Âge. Actes du XXXIe congrès de la SHMESP (Angers, 2000). París: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2001: 11-20: 13. 150. Hardy, Duncan. “The 1444-1445 expedition of the Dauphin Louis to the Upper Rhine in geopolitical perspective”. Journal of Medieval History, 38/3 (2012): 358-387. 151. Véase Portillo, José María. “La constitución en el Atlántico hispano, 1808-1824”. Fundamentos: cuadernos monográ- ficos de teoría del estado, derecho público e historia constitucional, 6 (2010): 123-178. 152. “Las creencias del pueblo sobre el sistema político no son algo ajeno a éste, sino que forman parte de él. Estas creen- cias, a pesar de estar ya formadas o predeterminadas, imponen los límites y el posible desarrollo del sistema; determinan lo que el pueblo desarrollará, y lo que exigirá”. Macpherson, Crawford Brough. The Life and Times of Liberal Democracy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977: 6.

410 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 Dos breves observaciones para acabar de orden, digamos, metodológico. La primera es que la

aproximación anterior se mantiene, con todo, a bastante distancia del objeto que contempla. La n gl is h imagen resultante tiene por ello las características propias de una fotografía aérea. A ojos vista E in puede que no sean evidentes los detalles. Y estos siempre son importantes; ya se sabe que Dios está en los detalles. Pero se trataba sólo de ofrecer una cartografía elemental. A favor de que ésta sea factible sin grandes distorsiones, a pesar de la amplitud del territorio abarcado, juegan dos factores: que dicho territorio puede ser captado de manera bastante veraz con una sola lente, la que propor- ubm i tted S ciona el ius commune, y que las diferencias en los pormenores, por muy significativas que estas sean no t miradas las cosas con una óptica más cercana, no alcanzan a anular las semejanzas, las similitudes, las formas comunes que eran expresión, dicho con Watts, de the consonances and shared patterns —the e x t s 153 structures— of European political life . T

La segunda observación es la siguiente. Durante mucho tiempo, si no desde siempre, la historia the

como disciplina ha estado obsesionada con su estatuto científico, lo que, en las décadas de la segun- o f da posguerra europea especialmente, la condujo a flirtear abiertamente con las llamadas ciencias sociales en detrimento de su prolongado noviazgo tradicional con la filología. No faltan voces entre

quienes practican hoy la mejor versión (y la más modesta, todo hay que decirlo) de ciencia social r i g in al s disponible que sugieren, no obstante, si en la actualidad no serán más bien los científicos sociales O los que deban tomar nota de la historia, esto es, de la práctica de los buenos historiadores154. Se podría decir —pues tampoco en esto podemos entrar en detalles— que la dificultad que subyace tanto en una actitud como en la otra es la misma: la de la adecuación entre los problemas y las herramientas, una dificultad que se manifestó por vez primera ya a principios del siglo XIX y que tiene su más famoso episodio en el Methodenstreit de finales del mismo siglo155. Hoy sabemos, sin embargo, de lo poco fundado de una contraposición radical entre comprensión y explicación156, dos operaciones que en efecto pueden funcionar, y de hecho funcionan, como fases distintas de un único proceso encaminado a rendir cuenta de una determinada realidad social. Si las creencias individuales o colectivas no son ajenas a la explicación de las acciones, en el sentido fuerte de que son susceptibles de formar parte de las causas inmediatas de estas, la comprensión de las creencias de las gentes del pasado, de su propia percepción de las cosas, no puede ser terreno acotado de una historia aparte, de una especialidad historiográfica. En dichas creencias se funden además las instituciones que reglamentan la vida social y de las que se sirven quienes intervienen en ella en función de sus intereses o preferencias. Decía Tocqueville en la Introducción de La democracia en América que a new science of politics is needed for a new world157. La vieja civilis sapientia no servía ya para entender una realidad nueva, del mismo modo que algunos de nuestros más comunes con- ceptos políticos sirven de poco para entender nosotros, hijos de ese mundo nuevo, aquel anterior que ya no existe. Están preñados de sentido158; u obligan a engorrosas redefiniciones que terminan

153. Watts, John. The Making of Polities...: 3. 154. Elster, Jon. “One social science or many?” (2010) . 155. Véase Ovejero, Félix. El compromiso del método: en el origen de la teoría social posmoderna. Barcelona: Montesinos, 2003: 39 y siguientes. 156. Boudon, Raymond. Metodología della viura Sociología. Bolonia: Il Mulino, 1996: 19 y siguientes. 157. “Una nueva ciencia de políticos es necesaria para un nuevo mundo”. Focqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. New York. Vintage Books, 1945: 1, 7. 158. Hespanha, António Manuel. “Le débat autour de l’État moderne”, Adhésion et résistances à l’État en France et en Espagne, 1620-1660, Anne-Marie Cocula, ed. Burdeos: Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux, 2001: 11-21; Schaub, Jean- Frédéric. “La notion d’État moderne est-elle utile?”. Cahiers du monde russe, 46/1-2 (2005): 51-64.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 411 revelándose poco fructíferas159. Para abordar la historia política que precedió a la del tiempo aún

nglish presente, y ya que es la guerra el motivo que nos ha traído hasta aquí, valdría tener en cuenta algo

E parecido a lo que hace poco afirmaba John France a propósito de la historia militar: “Looking at in the past through technological glasses is a distortion [...]. The sophisticated analytic terms used by armies nowadays are very modern and applying them to distant events is misleading”160. ubmitted S n o t exts T the o f riginals O

159. Véase Lyon, Jonathan R. “The Medieval German State in Recent Historiography”. German History, 28/1 (2010): 85-94. 160. France, John. Perilous Glory...: 13.

412 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 377-412. ISSN 1888-3931 GUERRA SANTA, CRUZADA Y RECONQUISTA EN LA

RECIENTE HISTORIOGRAFÍA ANGLOAMERICANA n gl is h

SOBRE LA PENÍNSULA IBÉRICA E in

Carlos Laliena Corbera Universidad de Zaragoza ubm i tted S no t

e x t s

Resumen T the

En las sociedades contemporáneas, que están atravesando una etapa neorromántica, las Cruza- o f das han dado lugar a una inmensa literatura y gozan de una considerable popularidad. En el campo científico, este fenómeno ha impulsado un debate sobre los aspectos ideológicos y culturales que

rodean a la Cruzada. Puesto que en la Península Ibérica tuvieron lugar combates entre los musul- r i g in al s manes y cristianos mucho antes de 1096, es inevitable que los historiadores se hayan preguntado O sobre la influencia de la Reconquista en los orígenes del movimiento cruzado. En este artículo criti- camos la extendida perspectiva entre los historiadores anglosajones, según los cuales la piedad laica y la espiritualidad fueron esenciales en el desarrollo de la Primera Cruzada, y las luchas llevadas a cabo en la Península Ibérica no influyeron en la extraordinaria adhesión de los nobles europeos a este proyecto. Además, proponemos otros conceptos pueden ayudar a explicar la intensidad de la respuesta, como los de “redes aristocráticas”, que, al mismo tiempo, ayudan a entender el peso de la experiencia hispánica en este movimiento1.

1. Introducción

El reciente fin de siglo se ha caracterizado incluso antes de la crisis económica por una excep- cional marea de pesimismo, manifestada en el éxito de las ficciones que describen catastróficos finales planetarios o sociedades post-apocalípticas, donde el retorno a una violencia casi primigenia recuerda mucho a las imágenes del universo medieval en los media. De hecho, la literatura fantás- tica, las series televisivas o las sagas cinematográficas se inspiran largamente en la Edad Media para evocar colosales dramas de reinos y dinastías legendarios, en los cuales la frecuente presencia de los clásicos monstruos de raíz medieval acentúa la evidente inspiración en las representaciones propia- mente medievales. En el contexto de inseguridad global que nos rodea y que sustenta buena parte de la mentalidad escatológica reflejada en estas ficciones, el último cuarto de siglo se caracteriza también por el recrudecimiento de los conflictos del Próximo Oriente, cuyo extraño parentesco de familia con las expediciones occidentales a Tierra Santa a partir de la primera cruzada ha sido se- ñalado por todas las partes involucradas.2 Inevitablemente, el desplazamiento del foco desde —por ejemplo— las guerras campesinas como la de Vietnam a las guerras del petróleo, como la del Golfo

1. Este trabajo se inscribe en las líneas de investigación del Grupo Consolidado de Investigación CEMA, de la Univer- sidad de Zaragoza. Dadas las características del tema, las notas se limitan estrictamente a documentar las afirmaciones realizadas en el texto. Agradezco a los evaluadores sus comentarios, que han mejorado el texto. 2. Holsinger, Bruce. Neomedievalism, Neoconservatism and the War of Terror. Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press, 2007.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 413 o la conquista de Iraq, ha conducido a una reorientación de la atención de los historiadores, desde

nglish la antropología de las sociedades campesinas (por continuar con el ejemplo) a la ideología de las

E cruzadas. Esta traslación no es exactamente una novedad, puesto que, como señala Christopher in Tyerman en la introducción de su libro sobre la realidad y el mito de las cruzadas, el imaginario occidental está plagado de referencias múltiples que se entrelazan constantemente desde el siglo XVIII en relación con estos aspectos.3 Quizá el más interesante en esta coyuntura es, precisamente, ubmitted el renacimiento de una potente historiografía sobre las cruzadas en el contexto de una exacerbada S presencia de este fenómeno histórico en una arena cultural tan global y peculiar como internet. n o t La revitalización de la historia de las cruzadas y, en particular, de la primera y más exitosa, responde a una demanda real, tanto social como académica, de nuevos comentarios, de nuevas ex- exts

T plicaciones, a veces simplemente de una adaptación a los tiempos de las tradicionales exposiciones

the sobre la expansión occidental en el Mediterráneo. Durante los últimos quince años, los historiado-

o f res se han aplicado a satisfacer esta exigencia de los mercados editoriales y —hasta cierto punto—

científicos, con resultados notables. A diferencia de lo que sucede habitualmente con los libros de historia, las obras sobre las cruzadas se traducen a múltiples lenguas, se reeditan constantemente

riginals y se difunden de manera muy amplia en los circuitos comerciales. De hecho, constituyen un au- O téntico producto editorial con múltiples formatos, desde la obra erudita hasta los libros de bolsillo de carácter divulgativo. En este sentido, la historiografía y la mitología de las cruzadas encajan bien con la poderosa corriente neorromántica a la que hacía referencia al principio, que mezcla en proporciones muy diversas un agudo sentimiento de desintegración social, nostalgia de la fantasía nutrida por una épica de espadas y dragones y un acentuado sentido de la alteridad —respecto a esos mundos fantásticos, pero indirectamente también hacia el pasado y lo no-occidental—. La narrativa de consumo y, por supuesto, internet han experimentado en estos años un alud masivo de materiales de esta naturaleza, entre los que sobresalen siempre versiones muy convencionales de la cruzada. La vertiente más significativa del resurgimiento del interés por la historia de las cruzadas es, sin duda, la inclinación hacia el contenido ideológico de este vasto movimiento. La mayoría de los historiadores de las cruzadas rechaza un planteamiento toscamente ‘materialista’, según el cual fue el resultado de la movilización de una masa de segundones nobles, dirigidos por algunos reyes y magnates, que aspiraban a mejorar su condición en Palestina a costa de los musulmanes. Una for- mulación de estas características, que tuvo cierta acogida antaño, ha perdido vigencia claramente en aras de explicaciones en las que los diversos componentes de la ideología de los cruzados son mucho más importantes. En este punto, el debate se hace más propio de especialistas y se cen- tra en torno a un concepto fundamental, la guerra santa, y otro subsidiario, la guerra justa, que tienen la interesante virtud de hacer más vaga la noción de cruzada y redondear algunas de sus aristas —todas las sociedades y en todas las época se ha justificado la guerra mediante argumentos religiosos—. Esta discusión tiene también componentes cronológicos y espaciales que se resumen en la pregunta: ¿en qué momentos y dónde son aplicables estos conceptos? No se trata en abso- luto de problemas novedosos, puesto que hace ochenta años los planteó con notable precisión Carl Erdmann y, después de él, los historiadores han elegido entre las diversas respuestas posibles, repitiendo muchas veces miméticamente ideas ya expresadas. Lo interesante de esta orientación

3. Tyerman Christopher. Las Cruzadas. Realidad y mito. Barcelona: Crítica, 2005 (edición original Fighting for Christendom. Holy War and the Crusades. Oxford-Nueva York: Oxford University Press, 2004).

414 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 de los estudios sobre cruzadas y guerra santa es, justamente, la elección del campo ideológico para

desarrollar la discusión historiográfica. Este deslizamiento no es una excepción en los estudios his- n gl is h tóricos, donde se aprecia en la actualidad un moderado descrédito de la historia social y el análisis E in económico en beneficio de la historia clásica —‘política’, biográfica, militar—, neoinstitucional y, sobre todo, cultural en sentido amplio, un fenómeno que es particularmente visible en este sector de la historiografía medievalista. Naturalmente, al escrutar la complejidad del concepto de cruzada, los historiadores se han ubm i tted S planteado con frecuencia interrogantes sobre la existencia de cruzadas ajenas a Tierra Santa. Del no t mismo modo, se han preguntado sobre los orígenes y el contexto en el que surge el movimiento cruzado a finales del siglo XI. Es probable que respecto a estas cuestiones exista cierto consenso en e x t s torno a lo que se ha dado en llamar un planteamiento “pluralista”, más o menos matizado. Esta T

posición afirma que definir como cruzada a una expedición militar exige una serie de requisitos the

concretos que cumplen múltiples intervenciones en escenarios tanto orientales como europeos, o f que afectaron a herejes o enemigos del papado (y no solo a los musulmanes), y que se desarrolla- ron en un arco cronológico muy amplio, que rebasa el final del siglo XIII cuando se extinguió la 4 presencia occidental en Palestina. Del mismo modo, hay un acuerdo general en la proposición r i g in al s de C. Tyerman, para el cual la cruzada es el producto de una sociedad que hacía de la guerra y la O violencia rasgos estructurales de su organización, de manera que lo distintivo de la cruzada era su ‘idealismo’, la movilización religiosa. En esta serie de razonamientos, la historia de la Península Ibérica tiene una trascendencia consi- derable, que no es necesario enfatizar. Siglos antes de la predicación de Urbano II, el espacio ibérico fue teatro de enfrentamientos entre musulmanes y cristianos, que dejaron como resultado ideoló- gico una profunda convicción en las elites aristocráticas de los principados cristianos de que lucha- ban contra enemigos de la fe, a los que se pretendía expulsar para restituir una situación previa, la de la Hispania goda y cristiana. Como estas actuaciones militares y el discurso ideológico tienden a coincidir con los planteados por los papas a finales del siglo XI (en términos más generales), es inevitable que los historiadores de la cruzada hayan revisado los problemas que suscita la recon- quista y sus vínculos con los orígenes del movimiento cruzado.5 En los últimos veinte años, varios historiadores anglosajones, la mayoría de la escuela de J. Riley-Smith, han reflexionado sobre esta cuestión y merece la pena debatir la validez de sus conclusiones y, en general, el marco conceptual que utilizan.6 Al mismo tiempo, puede ser interesante introducir otras nociones diferentes, poco o nada empleadas por estos investigadores, que emergen del análisis de las fuentes locales, y que se sitúan también dentro de parámetros culturales, pero algo alejados de la dimensión religiosa que ha dominado los argumentos de los historiadores de esta escuela.

4. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. ¿Qué fueron las Cruzadas?. Barcelona: Acantilado, 2012: 13-14 [edición original: What Were the Crusades?. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009 (4ª ed.). 5. La historiografía española sobre la reconquista es enorme y escapa a esta revisión. Véase García Fitz, Francisco “La Reconquista: un estado de la cuestión”. Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 142-215 [https://www.durango-udala.net/portalDu- rango/RecursosWeb/DOCUMENTOS/1/2_1945_6.pdf]. Después de redactado este trabajo se ha publicado: García Fitz, Francisco; Novoa, Feliciano. Cruzados en la Reconquista. Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2014, que toca algunos problemas aquí planteados, pero no analiza la perspectiva de la historiografía anglosajona. En este sentido, es un estudio complemen- tario del aquí desarrollado. 6. En consecuencia, este trabajo no pretende ser una síntesis historiográfica general y, por ello, no se citarán ni co- mentarán obras de otros historiadores ajenos a este grupo bien definido.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 415 2. Tiempos modernos

nglish La definición de la cruzada manejada por los medievalistas incluye las ideas de guerra santa y

E justa, con un contenido penitencial para sus participantes que recibían indulgencias espirituales y in protección material; una guerra que estaba destinada a combatir a los enemigos de la fe cristiana fuesen estos musulmanes en Oriente, paganos en la Europa eslava, herejes o, simplemente, fuerzas hostiles al papado.7 En esta definición, ‘guerra santa’ implica un evidente fundamento religioso, ubmitted mientras que ‘guerra justa’ supone una convocatoria por el papa, una dirección gestionada por S autoridades legítimas, una causa justificada y, de manera más subjetiva, lo que Jonathan Riley- n o t Smith llama ‘una intención correcta’. El aspecto penitencial deriva de las dificultades inherentes al viaje y a los sufrimientos experimentados por los combatientes, pero también de la estrecha exts

T relación con la peregrinación a Jerusalén, que formaba parte indisociable de las campañas y de la

the participación de los cruzados en ellas. Los beneficios espirituales fueron fijados progresivamente,

o f pero los más significativos figuraban desde el principio en la predicación papal y las cruzadas ajenas

al mundo oriental contaron con una protección equivalente, también desde comienzos del siglo XII. Todos estos aspectos son reiterados en la abundante bibliografía general sobre las cruzadas.

riginals De este conjunto de ideas asumido por la comunidad científca, sobresale sin embargo la discusión O sobre los factores ideológicos que contribuyeron a construir la noción innovadora de una guerra santa en Palestina. Un siglo de análisis cuidadoso de los textos ha conducido a una comprensión enormemente desarrollada del proceso de formación de la idea de cruzada. En estos momentos, la patrística, las obras de época carolingia o las bulas papales esconden pocos secretos para los investi- gadores, que han examinado minuciosamente el valor de las palabras y los conceptos relacionados con la guerra santa cristiana, el modo en que el pacifismo de la doctrina cristiana asumió la posi- bilidad de desplegar una violencia aceptable, especialmente cuando la causa que la desencadenaba era de tipo religioso. Si esta percepción casi institucional de la guerra santa fue patrimonio de dos generaciones de historiadores de la cruzada a partir de los años 1930, el signo de los tiempos ha marcado decisivamente a los historiadores de comienzos del siglo XXI con la insistencia en el idea- lismo de raíz religiosa, las motivaciones relacionadas con las creencias profundas de los cruzados. Sería absurdo negar validez a la adhesión a las expediciones jerosolimitanas (y en particular a la primera) por razones ideológicas, especialmente cuando durante el último siglo y medio hemos contemplado movilizaciones extraordinarias y muy rápidas en este sentido,8 pero es significativo que algunos medievalistas, siguiendo a J. Riley-Smith, acentúen la importancia de la espiritualidad en la decisión de tomar la cruz.9 Entre los que nos interesan en este comentario, destacan Marcus Bull y William Purkis. Marcus Bull argumenta detalladamente que los valores culturales laicos eran secundarios den- tro de las motivaciones de los cruzados a finales del siglo XI. Afirma que una especie de identidad ‘franca’ existía antes de la cruzada, pero que sobre todo se desarrolló extraordinariamente durante el transcurso de la expedición de 1096; el ethos caballeresco era igualmente importante, pero el honor familiar y el prestigio personal, que eran básicos en el mundo aristocrático de esta época, experimentaron un considerable impulso hacia el modelo clásico de la caballería medieval gracias precisamente a la cruzada. En definitiva, el sustrato que facilitó la incorporación de los combatien-

7. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. ¿Qué fueron las Cruzadas?: 23-32. 8. El desencadenamiento de la guerra de Secesión americana o el estallido de la Gran Guerra provocaron oleadas de voluntarios dispuestos a combatir en buena medida por ideas fuertes, el antiesclavismo o el patriotismo, en estos casos. 9. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. “Crusading as an Act of Love”. History, 65 (1980): 177-192.

416 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 tes armados a la primera cruzada fue la apelación a la piedad, o, más generalmente, a los valores

religiosos de los laicos relacionados con la piedad y la experiencia penitencial. Bull señala que una n gl is h parte de los historiadores de la cruzada ha identificado esos valores religiosos con los conceptos E in desarrollados por la elite clerical para hacer posible una guerra santa contra los infieles y, en con- creto, la liberación de Jerusalén. En este sentido, descarta que la Paz de Dios y, como veremos, la lucha contra los musulmanes en la Península Ibérica fuesen elementos significativos en la forma- ción del sustrato ideológico religioso de la primera cruzada. Sucede lo mismo con la literatura épica ubm i tted S en lenguas vernáculas, posterior al fenómeno cruzado y muy influida por él, según este autor. En no t contraste con estos factores persuasivos de carácter general, Bull piensa que el entusiasmo cruzado se forjó en los ambientes locales, en la conexión entre las comunidades de monjes y canónigos y e x t s las familias aristocráticas que ejercían su patronazgo sobre ellas y les entregaban a algunos de sus T

integrantes. La estrecha relación de estas parentelas con las comunidades monásticas creaba los the

canales a través de los cuales circulaban las ideas religiosas que se convertirían después en decisi- o f vas para la transmisión del mensaje cruzado, con la peregrinación como una forma de devoción fundamental en este terreno.10

William Purkis pretende integrar la cruzada en el contexto de la reforma de la Iglesia, y, sobre r i g in al s todo, en el marco de lo que llama la ‘espiritualidad del nuevo monasticismo’, que tiene dos aspec- O tos cruciales: la imitación de Cristo y la vida apostólica. Su estudio trata sobre como ‘estos ideales’ se manifestaron en la espiritualidad cruzada a lo largo del siglo XII. Piensa que el desprendimiento de los bienes materiales, la peregrinación como expresión misma de ese abandono y la simbólica adopción de la cruz en los rituales de incorporación a la cruzada, eran actos que desarrollaban la imitación de Cristo. No eran los únicos: el viaje a Tierra Santa en sí mismo suponía seguir el cami- no del Señor en sentido literal, la via Christi en Jerusalén, mientras que los padecimientos de los cruzados eran paralelos a los sufridos por Cristo y sus discípulos. Del mismo modo, la unanimidad y el espíritu de concordia que regían —según los cronistas y las cartas papales— el comportamien- to de los cruzados mostraba su voluntad de ser una comunidad apostólica. Frente a la posibilidad de que estos ideales fueran un producto de la ideología de los eclesiásticos más que de los propios cruzados, Purkis afirma que ‘there is also no reason to think that the ideals of the imitation of Christ or the apostolic life were so abstract that they would have been alien to laymen in the first instance’.11

3. Horizontes lejanos

Ambos autores dedican una considerable atención a la influencia de lareconquista cristiana en la formación de estos ideales de piedad, peregrinación y Cristo-mímesis que, en su opinión, alientan la formación de las cruzadas desde finales del siglo XI. Su conclusión es negativa: M. Bull piensa que las expediciones francas en España a partir de la primera, la de Barbastro, en 1064, son enig- máticas en su concepción, poco evidentes en su desarrollo y, finalmente, afectaron a una mínima parte de los miembros de las elites aristocráticas francas que más tarde se vincularían firmemente a la cruzada. Las iniciativas que condujeron a estas expediciones radicaron, según Bull, en las alianzas matrimoniales de los dirigentes peninsulares con los duques de Aquitania, Borgoña y otros

10. Bull, Marcus Graham. Knightly Piety and the Lay Response to the First Crusade. The Limousin and Gascony, c. 970-c. 1130. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993: 1-20. 11. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality in the Holy Land and Iberia, c. 1095-c. 1187. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2008: 57.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 417 linajes del norte de Francia. Estos lazos dinásticos facilitaron las conexiones para su intervención

nglish —cuando ésta se produjo, puesto alguna de las campañas, como la de Ebles de Roucy, organizada

E en 1073, probablemente no llegó a efectuarse—. Desde la perspectiva de Bull, estos matrimonios in fueron importantes para la cooperación militar pero ‘it suggest that the extent of French military involvement in Spain before the First Crusade was placed within strict limits’.12 En consecuencia, la difusión de la idea de cruzada en el mundo ibérico fue posterior a la predicación de Urbano II y, ubmitted sobre todo, a la repercusión del éxito en Tierra Santa. La identificación de la lucha contra los mu- S sulmanes en la Península con una guerra santa de filiación cruzada es fruto de la asociación que se n o t realiza a posteriori a medida que avanza el siglo XII y las cartas papales sistematizan la doctrina y la imparten a los monarcas hispanos. exts

T Por su parte, William Purkis señala que la creencia de que las actividades militares en la Penín-

the sula influyeron significativamente en la consolidación de la idea de cruzada es una ‘position no

13 o f longer tenable’, puesto que los combatientes francos en las citadas expediciones de la segunda

mitad del siglo XI no tuvieron un carácter religioso o penitencial y la más importante, Barbastro, quedó como un suceso aislado. Se alinea con autores como Angus MacKay y Richard Fletcher

riginals que aseguran que la guerra en las fronteras de al-Andalus estuvo condicionada por imperativos O políticos y materiales más que por impulsos ideológicos. Además, afirma que la novedad de la con- vocatoria de Clermont hace que no haya precedentes claros en el mundo occidental y menos en la Península: en las evidencias disponibles, señala, no hay nada que sugiera la combinación de una guerra meritoria y peregrinación penitencial en el espacio ibérico antes de 1095. Por último, deja claro que la actividad militar de los guerreros hispanos estaba encaminada a conseguir beneficios materiales, exactamente lo que prohibían los mandatos aprobados por este concilio. Solamente después de la conquista de Jerusalén, las nociones citadas se introdujeron en la atmósfera ideo- lógica de los nobles y caballeros hispanos, animándolos a participar en el movimiento cruzado, algo que fue prohibido reiteradamente por los papas para evitar la indefensión de las fronteras cristianas. A esto siguió rápidamente la equiparación del viaje a Tierra Santa con la actividad mi- litar contra los musulmanes en la Península, que tiene un punto central en el asedio de Zaragoza (1118), cuando el ejército cristiano recibió promesas de remuneraciones espirituales similares a las otorgadas a los cruzados orientales. Purkis debate también la importancia de las propuestas de un camino especial hacia Palestina desde territorio español, que comienzan a ser relativamente frecuentes en la década de 1120. 14 Un tercer historiador de las cruzadas que ha dedicado recientemente una amplia reflexión a las relaciones entre la guerra en las fronteras ibéricas de la cristiandad y la cruzada es Christopher Tyerman. Como los anteriores, subraya las conexiones que los contemporáneos apreciaron entre la lucha contra el islam en Próximo Oriente y en la Península, pero señala que, a pesar de que los enfrentamientos entre los reinos cristianos y sus oponentes se tiñeron en ocasiones de una tonalidad de expiación y recibieron apoyos papales, lo fundamental en ellos fue la combinación de ‘expansión y colonización’. Estos procesos se apoyaron en el ‘mito’ de la reconquista, que tenía una

12. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 70-114, cita, p. 89. 13. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality...: 6. 14. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality...: 120-138. Purkis dedica el último capítulo de su libro a examinar el con- tenido del Liber Sancti Jacobi y la Historia Turpini del Códice Calixtino para certificar la implantación de los contenidos de la cruzada en el ambiente hispano, así como otras indicaciones provenientes de la campaña de Baleares (113-1115), la conquista de Lisboa (1147) y la expedición contra Almería (1147).

418 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 fuerte dosis de un ‘lenguaje religioso’, destilado a lo largo de siglos y, especialmente, en el trans-

curso del siglo XI. Sin embargo, este flujo ideológico no estaba reñido en absoluto con una moti- n gl is h vación material: los tributos de los estados taifas fueron decisivos en la consolidación de los reinos E in cristianos y contribuyeron a instalar en el mundo ibérico las ideas de guerra santa que cobraban una importancia creciente en el ámbito europeo. Desde esta perspectiva, que sigue a M. Bull, la influencia en este terreno se ejerciódesde Europa hacia los principados feudales peninsulares y no al revés: ‘the stimulus to the application of holy war was probably a foreing import’. Tyerman es ubm i tted S más cauteloso que M. Bull y asume que en la campaña de Barbastro y las sucesivas protagonizadas no t por los francos, la mirada de los papas estuvo muy atenta a las posibilidades que revestían para la expansión cristiana. Encuentra la clave de la dinamización de la guerra santa en España en la apa- e x t s rición de los almorávides y el desarrollo de la política papal de fomento de la guerra de expiación T

que condujo a la primera cruzada. A partir del concilio de Clermont y de la conquista de Jerusalén, the

la noción de cruzada impregnó decisivamente la actividad bélica contra los musulmanes en el terri- o f torio hispano, que se revistió muy pronto de todo el aparato formal unido a la cruzada. La cruzada, no obstante, fue un ropaje amplio para cubrir la posterior evolución de las guerras entre cristianos

y musulmanes, un recurso manejado de manera gradual e incompleta, que no impidió una inte- r i g in al s racción pacífica entre ellos. En último término, la utilización de los aspectos jurídicos, ideológicos O y materiales de la cruzada estuvo subordinada a las necesidades y exigencias de la política de los estados peninsulares.15 He mencionado a Angus MacKay y a Richard Fletcher, y a ellos habría que añadir a Derek Lomax, Peter Linehan y más recientemente Joseph O’Callaghan y Simon Barton, entre los hispa- nistas cuya interpretación del periodo de inestable equilibrio entre los principados feudales y los estados taifas, se ha convertido en canónica en la historiografía anglosajona. 16 A diferencia de los anteriores —J. Riley-Smith, M. Bull, W. Purkis, C. Tyerman, y, antes de ellos, H. E. J. Cowdrey— el problema que les concierne no es la formación de la idea de cruzada, sino, con diversos matices, la expansión cristiana en el marco peninsular. La cuestión que les preocupa, como a muchos historia- dores españoles, es el proceso de conquista de al-Andalus y la creación de un denso tejido ideológi- co destinado a justificarla, a dotarla de sentido y a situarla en una larga continuidad histórica. Es lo que habitualmente se denomina reconquista, concepto que ha suscitado, como es bien sabido, am- plísimos debates sobre su utilidad y capacidad explicativa. Estos historiadores son muy conscientes de la complejidad historiográfica de esta noción. Quizá quien ha desarrollado entre ellos un análisis más completo sea Joseph O’Callaghan, que se hace eco de la aparición de la ideología neogoticista en los ambientes eclesiásticos del reino astur-leonés, centrada en la creencia en la ‘pérdida de Es- paña’, su ‘inevitable’ recuperación y la continuidad entre el reino astur-leonés (o sus sucesores) y la Hispania visigoda. Señala que ‘the christian struggle against islamic Spain can be described as a

15. Tyerman, Christopher. Las guerras de Dios. Una nueva historia de las Cruzadas. Barcelona: Crítica, 2007: 832-866 [edi- ción original. God’s Wars. A New History of the Crusades. Cambridge (Mass.): Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007]. 16. MacKay, Angus. La España de la Edad Media, Desde la frontera hasta el Imperio (1000-1500). Madrid: Cátedra, 1985 [edi- ción original Spain in the Middle Ages: from Frontier to Empire, 1000-1500. Nueva York: St. Martin’s Press, 1977]; Fletcher, Richard. “Reconquest and Crusade in Spain, c. 1050-1150”. Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 5/37 (1987): 31-48; Lomax, Derek. La Reconquista. Barcelona: Crítica, 1984 [edición original The Reconquest of Spain. Londres-Nueva York: Longman, 1978]; Linehan, Peter. Historia e historiadores de la España medieval. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 2012 [edición original: History and Historians of Medieval Spain. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993.] Los trabajos de Joseph F. O’Callaghan y Simon Barton serán citados en las notas siguientes.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 419 war of both territorial aggrandizement and of religious confrontation’.17 Esta dualidad depende del

nglish hecho de que el islam y la cristiandad medievales eran dos civilizaciones incompatibles, de manera

E que aquellos que conservaban la fe contraria en el seno de cada una de estas civilizaciones eran in minorías aceptadas, pero no integradas. Inevitablemente, la confrontación adoptaba tintes religio- sos y, por tanto, el aspecto de una guerra santa. En este planteamiento, Joseph O’Callaghan adopta una postura pragmática respecto a la reconquista, al señalar que se puede delimitar con este término ubmitted un proceso prolongado, cuyos orígenes reales hay que situar en el final del siglo XI y principios del S XII, cuando por primera vez los cristianos estuvieron en condiciones de vencer a los musulmanes. n o t Señala, no sin un toque de humor, que la reconquista de Hispania no fue obra de los herederos de los godos en el siglo IX sino de los cristianos durante los siglos XI-XII, algo muy diferente. exts

T Si para O’Callaghan la reconquista fue un proceso, la cruzada era un acontecimiento concreto:

the los reyes y príncipes ibéricos emplearon esta arma ideológica procedente del arsenal del papado a

o f partir la primera cruzada en múltiples momentos para proporcionar mayor fuerza a sus expedi-

ciones militares. La concesión de los privilegios jurídicos de la cruzada potenciaba sus campañas militares. Por tanto (y es la primera conclusión), el desarrollo de la idea de cruzada influye en el

riginals proceso de reconquista, y no a la inversa. En segundo lugar, la mezcla inseparable entre expansión O territorial —en algunos momentos, ni siquiera eso, simplemente la captación de tributos de los estados taifas musulmanes— y el contenido religioso del que se dotaba a esta guerra de conquista, permite distinguir claramente el aspecto propiamente hispánico de la guerra santa europea, tal y como se expande a partir de la época de Gregorio VII. En general, estas dos proposiciones forman parte decisiva del panel de argumentos de los in- vestigadores anglosajones de la cruzada: la guerra contra los musulmanes en la Península, aunque dotada de un evidente contenido religioso, no intervino en la dramática erupción de la cruzada que siguió a la convocatoria de Clermont y, por el contrario, la conquista de Jerusalén cambió significativamente la perspectiva de la guerra en España. Además, la lucha contra los musulmanes tuvo un aspecto de expansión territorial y enriquecimiento material de las elites guerreras tan evidente que contrasta ampliamente con el desprendimiento inherente a la cruzada, una auténtica peregrinación armada a finales del siglo XI y una indecisa mezcla de ambas cosas durante todo el siglo siguiente.18 Con mayor o menor énfasis, los hispanistas que han trabajado en los últimos años sobre este periodo en el mundo ibérico se suman a esta perspectiva general, desde Richard Fletcher a Simon Barton, entre otros.19

4. Persistentes errores

La cerrada defensa de la historiografía anglosajona derivada de la obra seminal de Jonathan Riley-Smith de un origen de la cruzada basado en el idealismo religioso de las elites aristocráticas europeas fomentado por los papas reformistas, presenta un problema fundamental: no responde

17. O’Callaghan, Joseph F. Reconquest and Crusade in Medieval Spain. Filadelfia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003: 7. 18. Tyerman, Christopher. The Invention of the Crusades. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998: 8-30. 19. Fletcher, Richard. “Reconquest and Crusade in Spain”: 31-48; Barton, Simon. “From Tyrants to Soldiers of Christ: the nobility of twelfth-century León-Castile and the struggle against Islam”. Nottingham Medieval Studies, 44 (2000): 28-48. Este autor, en “El Cid, Cluny and the Medieval Spain Reconquista”. English Historical Review, 126/520 (2011): 517- 543, ofrece un ejemplo concreto del funcionamiento de estas proposiciones: el Cid, un antihéroe que aspira a triunfar en un ambiente nobiliario muy competitivo mediante la conquista de Valencia, utiliza a través del obispo Jerónimo un programa ideológico de base cluniacense genéricamente conectado con la guerra santa contra el Islam.

420 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 a la cuestión de porqué se produjo este fenómeno a finales del siglo XI y no en otro momento.

La buena pregunta no es solamente cómo se creó el espíritu de cruzada sino también cuándo. La n gl is h respuesta implícita coloca como protagonista a Urbano II, cuyo llamamiento es decisivo en este E in sentido, pero esta afirmación, sin ser errónea, no es en absoluto satisfactoria.20 Hay indicaciones en este sentido. Marcus Bull sugiere que la propensión a participar en la cruzada es consecuencia de una larga tradición de piedad laica basada en estrechas relaciones de las familias aristocrática con las instituciones religiosas locales, sobre la que incide la predicación papal.21 Por su parte, Jo- ubm i tted S nathan Riley-Smith desarrolla una idea fundamental: “many early crusaders are clustered into certain no t kindred groups. The most likely reason for this seems to be that some families were predisposed in various ways to respond favourably to the call to take the cross”.22 Por tanto, las conexiones con las instituciones e x t s religiosas y las tradiciones familiares explicarían la favorable acogida al mensaje de Urbano II en el T

transcurso del solemne viaje de 1095-1096. Se trata de argumentos potentes que, sin duda, deben the

figurar entre los que explican la creciente implicación de un amplio estrato nobiliario europeo en o f la guerra santa durante la segunda mitad del siglo XI. Pero no son suficientes, puesto que los lazos de las parentelas aristocráticas con los monasterios y comunidades canonicales se remontan al

periodo anterior al año mil, y, además, una infinidad de ellas no mostraron especial relación con r i g in al s la peregrinación o la cruzada a Oriente. Y la propuesta de Riley-Smith se proyecta hacia el futuro O —las expediciones posteriores a la victoria en Tierra Santa—, más que a las causas del inicio de este fenómeno. En mi opinión, es preciso sistematizar estas ideas a partir de un concepto fundamental, el de redes aristocráticas, que me parece particularmente eficaz para explicar la combinación de decisio- nes personales y opciones familiares en relación con la cruzada en Tierra Santa, pero también en el marco de otros escenarios bélicos, como las fronteras de al-Andalus y Sicilia. La noción de red social es lo bastante intuitiva como para no necesitar una definición muy precisa, al menos para nuestros propósitos aquí. Los contactos con los monasterios o las tramas familiares evocados en el párrafo anterior son buenos ejemplos de esta estructura en red que permitía dotar de una intensa cohesión a la clase dominante a través de lazos de parentesco, afinidad y alianza, vasallaje y clien- tela espiritual con patronos eclesiásticos. Naturalmente, el uso de esta metáfora, que nos conduce hacia las relaciones sociales y las estrategias de grupo más que al idealismo religioso individual, no es estrictamente una novedad. Sin embargo, me gustaría insistir en que estas redes se hicieron más tupidas a lo largo del siglo XI y, sobre todo, se estructuraron espacialmente. Aunque todos los historiadores citados de la escuela anglosajona son conscientes de que se producían agrupaciones de caballeros alrededor de algunos grandes príncipes y magnates, con un fuerte componente regio- nal, tienden a subestimar la importancia de este factor, considerado obvio. Marcus Bull examina las lealtades regionales, pero enfatiza sobre todo la perspectiva local. Los nobles del Limousin y Gascuña, “whose mental map was most likely very localized (apart from possible experiences of some distant places through pilgrimage)”, 23 se situaban necesariamente en conexiones familiares y religiosas muy cerradas, con un horizonte que se limitaba a las comunidades de monjes y canó- nigos más próximas. Este enfoque depende mucho de la utilización de documentos procedentes

20. “The quasi-regal grandeur, penitential atmosphere, and sheer novelty value of the pope’s passage through south- western France helped to generate enthusiasm for the crusade”: Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 258. 21. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety...: 250-281. 22. Riley-Smith, Jonathan. The First Crusaders, 1095-1131. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 1997: 21. 23. Bull, Marcus. Knightly Piety... : 14.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 421 de los archivos de las instituciones religiosas, que tienden a centrarse en torno a los problemas

nglish patrimoniales y de alianza con las familias nobles cercanas. Si aceptamos esta visión de la Europa

E del siglo XI efectuada a través de los ojos de los monjes, Occidente parece un archipiélago de áreas in regionales escasamente conectadas entre ellas —de hecho, la cruzada sería uno de los elementos de interconexión europea a partir de 1096—. Esta perspectiva está lejos de ser falsa y subyace en muchos estudios de historia regional del ubmitted último medio siglo, pero tal vez ha llegado el momento de pensar que las redes nobiliarias se jerar- S quizaban social y espacialmente, hasta alcanzar el entorno de los príncipes territoriales y, a través n o t de la proximidad con estos círculos privilegiados, sus miembros participaban de experiencias de dimensión europea. La información sobre estas relaciones y experiencias es ciertamente pobre, exts

T pero, cuando disponemos de ella, nos muestra una activación de estas redes a escala muy amplia.

the La campaña de Barbastro, en 1064, es un buen ejemplo de diversas redes aristocráticas europeas

o f —de Poitou, Champagne, Normandía e incluso Italia— que emergen bruscamente en la palestra

española para participar en el ataque a una ciudad de al-Andalus y en la devastación del valle del Ebro musulmán. 24 Cincuenta o sesenta años después, estas redes seguían siendo operativas,

riginals puesto que encuadraron la participación de los nobles anglonormandos, champañeses y, en menor O medida, aquitanos en la conquista del Valle del Ebro. Aunque falta mucha investigación en este terreno, la considerable complejidad de estas asociaciones nobiliarias puede observarse a través de la intervención en Aragón de señores y vasallos normandos durante el periodo 1123-1134.25 Sin pretender desarrollar una explicación que he abordado en otro trabajo, me parece imprescindible señalar la importancia de Rotrou de Perche y sus vínculos con los grandes magnates anglonorman- dos del final del siglo XI y principios del XII, Nigel de Aubigny, Gilbert de L’Aigle y el monasterio de Saint-Évroul, que explican la presencia en Aragón y Navarra de una larga serie de caballeros que pertenecían a un área que se extendía desde Northampton y York, en Inglaterra, hasta Turenne, en el Limousin francés. Es bien sabido que Rotrou era primo hermano de Alfonso I, a través de sus madres, y ambos eran sobrinos de Ebles de Roucy que, en 1073, recibió el encargo de Gregorio VII de dirigir una expedición militar en España. Normalmente, se interpreta que Rotrou, un distingui- do participante en la primera cruzada, acudió a una llamada de Alfonso el Batallador movido por sus lazos familiares a principios del siglo XII. Sin embargo, creo que estos vínculos por parte ma- terna eran menos importantes para Rotrou que el profundo impacto que la cruzada había dejado en él y que le estimulaba a continuar combatiendo contra el islam. Al mismo tiempo, pienso que su decisión de tomar la cruz en 1096 estuvo en parte determinada por una tradición familiar que se remontaba a la campaña de Barbastro y recordaba su deber de luchar contra los musulmanes.26

24. Sénac, Philippe. “Un château en Espagne. Note sur la prise de Barbastro (1064)”, Liber largitorius. Études d’histoire médiévale offertes à Pierre Toubert par ses élèves, ed. Dominique Barthélemy, Jean-Marie Martin. París: Droz, 2003: 545-562 y Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal en el noreste de la Península a mediados del siglo XI: Barbastro, 1064”, Cristianos y musulmanes en la Península Ibérica: la guerra, la frontera y la convivencia. XI Congreso de Estudios Medievales. León, del 23 al 26 de octubre de 2007. Ávila: Fundación Sánchez Albornoz, 2009: 187-218, con la bibliografía anterior. 25. Laliena, Carlos. “Larga stipendia et optima praedia: les nobles francos en Aragon au service d’Alphonse le Batailleur”. Annales du Midi, 112/230 (2000): 149-170 y especialmente 157-164. 26. Sobre la larga carrera de Rotrou de Perche, incluyendo su actividad en Aragón y Navarra, Thompson, Kathleen. Power and Border Lordship in Medieval France: The Country of Perche, 1000-1226. Woodbridge-Nueva York: The Boudell Press, 2002: 54-85. K. Thompson señala (y es importante) que Rotrou viajó a Jerusalén con Robert Courtheuse, duque de Normandía, lo que supone que la fidelidad pesaba también en la decisión de participar en la cruzada. Véase también Thompson, Kathleen. “Family Tradition and the Crusading Impulse: The Rotrou Counts of Perche”. Medieval Prosopo- graphy, 19 (1998): 1-33.

422 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 La distinguida carrera de Rotrou también permite llamar la atención sobre la circulación de infor-

mación entre estas redes de dimensiones europeas. Durante medio siglo, este gran noble de la fronte- n gl is h ra normanda se mueve entre las cortes reales de Inglaterra, Francia, Aragón y Navarra, además de las E in ducales de Anjou y Blois, sin que la enorme amplitud geográfica de estos contactos parezca causarle ninguna dificultad aparente, salvo que aceptemos la acusación de deslealtad de Alfonso I o sus nobles que vertió Orderic Vital en relación con un primer viaje que debe datarse en los inicios del reinado de este monarca (ca. 1108).27 Desde este punto de vista, la idea de Marcus Bull de que la perspectiva de ubm i tted S los nobles occidentales a finales del siglo XI se limitaba a las regiones dentro de las cuales vivían, es no t reduccionista. Por el contrario, es preferible pensar que las tradiciones gloriosas de las expediciones armadas en las lejanas tierras de España se transmitían dentro de los linajes familiares y además, gra- e x t s cias a estas redes de parentesco, alianza y vasallaje, se comunicaban a sectores bastante extensos de T

la aristocracia del norte de Europa, desde Borgoña hasta Inglaterra. Por otra parte, existían canales de the

información demasiado subestimados en este contexto. Las relaciones de Arnau Mir de Tost, vizcon- o f de de Ager, en el condado catalan de Urgell, con el papa Alejandro II y con el monasterio de Cluny en la década de 1060, ilustran perfectamente la existencia de estos canales (el papado y Cluny) que 28 tenían una resonancia europea. Arnau era uno de los líderes de la guerra contra los musulmanes, a r i g in al s los que combatió durante treinta años sin descanso, un excelente ejemplo para sus contemporáneos, O de acuerdo con los títulos que le otorgaba el papa en sus bulas (nobilissimum et religiosissimum uirum, inimicorum Dei agarenorum aduersarium et debellatorem).29 Por tanto, el argumento de los historiadores anglosajones de la cruzada, según el cual la enorme intensificación de la guerra contra el islam que se inicia a mediados del siglo XI en la Península Ibérica no fue importante en la amalgama ideológica de los nobles que se alistaron en la cruzada en 1096, se basa en dos supuestos erróneos: que las redes aristocráticas del norte de Europa no se extendían a España (con la excepción de los matrimonios de los reyes hispanos); y que el conoci- miento de lo que ocurría en las fronteras mediterráneas de la cristiandad tampoco se difundía al resto del universo aristocrático europeo.30 El corolario de estos supuestos es que las tradiciones familiares que describían las hazañas de los antepasados o de los parientes y amigos de los antepasados en las expediciones militares inicia- das con la de Barbastro, la enorme generosidad de los reyes hispanos y el halo de sacralidad que desprendían las continuas luchas en las fronteras de los valles del Ebro y del Tajo no contaban en la predisposición de los nobles del norte de Europa a alistarse en la cruzada. Y se trata de una con- clusión probablemente equivocada. La insistencia en la peregrinación —y la importancia de Jerusalén— y las formas de piedad laica, casi monástica, dejan en el olvido la enorme potencia de la memoria laica de los linajes, oculta por el carácter casi exclusivamente eclesiástico de nuestras fuentes. Volcados en las fuentes narrativas y eclesiásticas, no es sorprendente que los autores que comentamos presten poca atención a las chansons

27. Chibnall, Marjorie, ed. The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978: VI, 394-397. La estancia Rotrou en Aragón-Navarra en este periodo no está documentada en las fuentes locales; Thompson, Kathleen. Power and Border...: 60, acepta estos datos ofrecidos por Orderic Vital: Lema, José Ágel. Alfonso I el Batallador, rey de Aragón y Pamplona (1104-1134). Gijón: Trea, 2008: 73-75, la admite con dudas. 28. Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal...”: con las referencias documentales. 29. Chesé, Ramón. Col·lecció diplomàtica de Sant Pere d’Àger fins 1198. Lleida: Fundació Noguera, 2011: 266-288 (doc. nº 44) [15 de abril de 1090], bula de Nicolas II. 30. Un razonamiento parecido podría hacerse respecto a la conquista de Sicilia (1060-1091), ausente en los plantea- mientos sobre la cruzada, a pesar de que los normandos sicilianos intervinieron activamente en la primera.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 423 de geste, la épica vernacular, con la excusa de que las versiones que poseemos son posteriores a la pri-

nglish mera cruzada y están muy influidas por el ambiente cruzado de mediados del siglo XII. Sin embargo,

E es evidente que las leyendas épicas circulaban antes de las cruzadas y conectaban lo que podemos in llamar la ‘materia de España’ con las referencias a Carlomagno y los héroes del pasado carolingio. Será suficiente con recordar que, hacia 1070-1080, un monje riojano tomó de estas tradiciones orales los datos necesarios para añadir un breve resumen de la batalla de Roncesvalles y la muerte de los pares ubmitted de Francia a una obra historiográfica, laChronica Albendensia, con la finalidad de completarla con deta- S lles prestigiosos.31 Y, según Francisco Bautista, en la misma época comenzó a expandirse una leyenda n o t alrededor de un conde ribagorzano, Bernardo, liberador de las tierras del condado del poder de los musulmanes y vasallo del emperador, un relato legendario que formó probablemente el sustrato de exts 32 T una canción de gesta en torno a Bernardo de Carpio en una fase más tardía. Por tanto, algunas déca-

the das antes de la predicación de la cruzada, narraciones épicas que evocaban la memoria de Carlomagno

o f y sus vasallos circulaban desde Normandía a la Rioja y contribuían a intensificar los valores propios de

un ethos caballeresco que consideraba altamente meritoria la lucha contra los musulmanes. No sería justo dejar de señalar en este punto que algunos trabajos relacionados con la escuela

riginals de Jonathan Riley-Smith están orientados a mostrar la potencia de estas tradiciones de linaje. Es O el caso de Nicholas Paul, que ha prestado atención también a las manifestaciones en este sentido en Cataluña durante la segunda mitad del siglo XII.33 Este es, me parece, el camino más acertado para salir de un cierto impasse historiográfico dominado por un exceso de atención al idealismo religioso como elemento central de la movilización de la aristocracia europea en el movimiento cruzado. No se trata de negar la importancia de la inspiración religiosa en la atmósfera emocional que rodeaba a la adhesión a la cruz, sino de valorar el lado más opaco de nuestra información, los deberes inherentes a la pertenencia a linajes insertos en redes políticas complejas y con amplias estrategias, así como la incorporación de patrones culturales basados en una cultura guerrera, en la que el honor era un elemento capital en la reproducción social de la elite. Desde esta perspectiva, la implicación de algunos sectores de los grupos aristocráticos de la nobleza europea en la violenta confrontación de los principados cristianos con los reinos taifas de al-Andalus es más densa de lo que la historiografía anglosajona admite. En segundo lugar, la documentación local, especialmente la procedente de las marcas fronterizas de Aragón y Cataluña, muestra desde los años 1040 que la lucha contra los musulmanes no era simplemente un asunto de expansión territorial y obtención de tributos, sino que los protagonistas de todo el espectro social, pero especialmente los nobles, estaban profundamente impregnados de la convicción de que la lucha que mantenían tenía un carácter sagrado y comportaba beneficios espirituales. Y lo que es quizá más importante, esta do- cumentación local manifiesta la existencia de vías de comunicación que informaban en círculos importantes a nivel europeo de lo que sucedía en estas fronteras de la cristiandad. Omitir estos aspectos, como hacen los historiadores de la cruzada anglosajones supone mutilar un componente decisivo en la formación del movimiento cruzado en la segunda mitad del siglo XI.

31. La “Nota emilianense” ha dado lugar a una importante bibliografía; citaré solamente un trabajo reciente que la recopila y comenta: Bautista, Francisco. “Memoria de Carlomagno. Sobre la difusión temprana de la materia carolingia en España (siglos XI-XII)”. Revista de poética medieval, 25 (2011): 47-109 y especialmente 58-60. 32. Bautista, Francisco. “Memoria de Carlomagno...”: 60-69, con una bibliografía exhaustiva. 33. Paul, Nicholas L. To Follow in Their Footsteps. The Crusades and Family Memory in the High Middle Ages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2012; Paul, Nicholas L. “Crusade, memory and regional politics in twelfth-century Amboise”. Journal of Medieval History, 31 (2005): 127-141.

424 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 413-424. ISSN 1888-3931 LA GUERRA EN LEON Y CASTILLA (CA. 1110-1130).

CRISIS INTERNA E IMAGINARIO DE LA VIOLENCIA n gl is h E in

Pascual Martínez Sopena Universidad de Valladolid ubm i tted S no t

Resumen e x t s T

Este artículo está dedicado a un aspecto de la profunda crisis social que se produjo en León the

y Castilla en tiempos de la reina Urraca (regnante 1109-1126), heredera de Alfonso VI (regnante o f

1066/1072-1109). Se trata de la guerra que recorre todo el periodo la cual, tras la muerte de la reina, se prolongó durante los primeros años del gobierno de su hijo y sucesor Alfonso VII (regnante

1126-1157). La contribución no tiene como objeto describir las acciones bélicas de una guerra del r i g in al s siglo XII. En cambio, se pregunta por la dinámica de la guerra. Para ello, resalta sus componentes O materiales, sociales y simbólicos; lo hace mediante una serie de cuadros que proceden de fuentes diversas.1

En 1109 murió Alfonso VI. Había regido León y Castilla casi cuarenta años. Durante la prime- ra etapa de su gobierno, sus reinos se dilataron por los valles de los grandes ríos de la Península Ibérica: en el valle del Ebro, con la incorporación de La Rioja (1076), que había formado parte del reino de Pamplona [Navarra]; en el valle del Duero, al dominar la región situada al sur del río (las Extremaduras) en los años 1080; y en el valle del Tajo, con la conquista de la ciudad de Toledo, llave de al-Andalus (1085). Pero sólo un año después, en el otoño de 1086, los almorávides acudían en ayuda de los musul- manes de España, derrotando al ejército de Alfonso VI en la batalla de Zalaca. Los almorávides en- carnaban cierta visión rigorista del Islam y su base social eran beréberes del Sahel; habían fundado Marrakech y dominaban el noroeste de África. Su victoria marcó el inicio de una nueva etapa, pues fue la primera de una serie de derrotas para los cristianos que culminaron en 1108; este año, el infante Sancho —hijo del rey y heredero del trono—, pereció en la comarca de Uclés, sobre el Tajo, junto a varios condes y sus mesnadas. Poco después se completó la incorporación de al-Andalus al imperio almorávide. A pesar de ello, el balance del periodo no fue desastroso para los cristianos. La sociedad caste- llano-leonesa hizo frente a los retos —como las otras del norte peninsular. Se mantuvo un creci- miento interno y hubo profundos cambios institucionales. Entre éstos últimos destaca la reforma eclesiástica. Iniciada en el pontificado de Gregorio VII y apoyada por Alfonso VI, la reforma intro- dujo un arsenal de ritos, normas y pautas de vida que cambiaron la Iglesia del reino en las últimas décadas del siglo XI. Con ellos se asoció la expansión señorial y el enriquecimiento de monasterios y catedrales. Paralelamente, se definió la noción de “nobleza” en un sentido similar al que se impo-

1. Este trabajo forma parte del Proyecto de Investigación “Poderes, espacios y escrituras en los reinos hispánicos occiden- tales (siglos XI-XIV)”, ref. HAR2013-42925-P, financiado por el Ministerio de Economía y Competitividad del Gobierno de España.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 425 nía en todo Occidente. No obstante, persistieron las prácticas tradicionales de división de herencia

nglish entre todos los hijos. Esto sugiere una nobleza compuesta por amplias parentelas cognaticias, y

E contribuye a explicar el papel central de la monarquía como distribuidora de beneficios. in Por otra parte, entre 1088 y 1110 se consolidaron las principales ciudades y villas de la ribera del Duero y las Extremaduras —Zamora y Toro, Segovia, Medina del Campo y Ávila, Salamanca y Alba de Tormes. Su éxito se debió a su función de glacis defensivo del reino frente a la amenaza ubmitted almorávide; pero en las ciudades de la retaguardia —como León, Oviedo o Burgos—, se constata S algo semejante. El auge del Camino de Santiago representa uno de los aspectos más activos del n o t crecimiento que se aprecia en el reinado de Alfonso VI. Hay que pensar que la monarquía, con la colaboración de nobles, abades y obispos, impulsó los núcleos urbanos tradicionales y favoreció el exts

T nacimiento de otros nuevos.

the Esta suma de elementos explica la acumulación de tensiones internas que explosionaron tras

o f la muerte del rey, a través de una crisis política que también ha sido interpretada como una crisis

de crecimiento. Alfonso VI fue sucedido por su hija Urraca. La nueva soberana estaba viuda. Su difunto marido,

riginals Raimundo, era un sobrino del abad Hugo de Cluny y había llegado a España en los años 1080. O Segundón de la casa condal de Borgoña, alcanzó los máximos honores en la corte leonesa. Fue hecho conde de Galicia; también se encargó de poblar las principales ciudades de las Extremaduras. Apoyado eficazmente por su primo Enrique de Portugal —marido de otra hija de Alfonso VI, la infanta Teresa—, había llegado a ser el árbitro de la política del reino, pero murió en 1107. La reina ha sido particularmente maltratada por la posteridad. En cambio, sus últimos biógrafos han enfatizado que “no es nada difícil encontrar decisiones enérgicas, en la experiencia vital o en la acción política de esta mujer”2. Hay que considerar que su hijo Alfonso Raimúndez, tutelado por el obispo de Compostela Diego Gelmírez y el conde Pedro Froilaz, vivía en Galicia, entre antiguos colaboradores de su padre que recelaban de ella. El conde Enrique y su esposa también organiza- ron su propio bando en Portugal. Por voluntad de un sector de la nobleza, Urraca casó en segundas nupcias con Alfonso el Batallador, rey de Aragón y Pamplona. Pero el matrimonio constituyó un nuevo problema: nuevos bandos se formaron alrededor de cada cónyuge. Muchos miembros de la nobleza, obispos y abades de León y Castilla se mantuvieron al lado de la reina; en cambio el Batallador tuvo grandes apoyos en ciudades y villas. La crisis ya estaba planteada en 1110 y se prolongó después de morir Urraca en 1126, durante los primeros años de su sucesor, el citado Alfonso [VII] Raimúndez3. Sólo cuando las tropas de Alfonso el Batallador abandonaron Castrogeriz, su última base en el corazón de Castilla (1131), se clausuró un ciclo. El estudio se centra en estos veinte años. Es un periodo coherente para plantear diversos aspec- tos de una profunda crisis social que se tradujo en contienda permanente. Su escenario principal

2. Las crónicas más antiguas fueron escritas por hombres de Iglesia y desarrollan conocidos tópicos sobre la condición femenina. Ver en particular Falque, Emma, ed. Historia Compostellana. Turnhout: Brepols, 1988. Sobre la personalidad de la reina, Reilly, Bernard F. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under Queen Urraca (1109-1126). Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982; Pallares, M. Carmen; Portela, Ermelindo. La reina Urraca. San Sebastián: Nerea, 2006 (la cita proviene de este último libro, página 187). 3. En 1126, recién elevado al trono, Alfonso VII acudió al monasterio de Sahagún para hacerse perdonar los daños que él mismo y sus partidarios le habían infligido durante los precedentes diecisiete años de “cruda guerra”; el diploma donde manifestaba su contrición fue depositado sobre el altar de los Santos Facundo y Primitivo, titulares de la casa, según un ritual de tradición cluniacense (Fernández, José Antonio, ed. Colección Diplomática del monasterio de Sahagún (857-1230). IV (1110-1199). León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación ‘San Isidoro’, 1991: IV, 103-106 (doc. no 1226).

426 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 fueron las tierras del gran noroeste español, vertebrado por el Camino de Santiago en esta época.

Pero es conocido que en esta época hubo otras zonas de guerra. En particular, la “frontera caliente” n gl is h de al-Andalus propone una problemática distinta; en ella, musulmanes y cristianos mantuvieron E in una guerra mucho más larga: se había iniciado en los años 1080 y sus primeras fases se prolonga- ron hasta comienzos del siglo XIII; tampoco coinciden los protagonistas colectivos —almorávides— y luego almohades de una parte, caballeros pardos de los concejos fronterizos, de la otra. El objetivo de esta contribución no es describir las acciones bélicas de una guerra del siglo XII. ubm i tted S En cambio, se ha procurado indagar en la dinámica de la guerra, resaltando sus componentes ma- no t teriales, sociales y simbólicos a través de una serie de cuadros que proceden de diversas fuentes. En el primero se examinan las medidas adoptadas para financiar las campañas, tomando como e x t s eje la huella de las requisiciones hechas por la reina Urraca y sus agentes en los documentos de la T

cancillería regia conservados. El segundo enfatiza las dimensiones de una contienda que implicó al the

conjunto de la sociedad, advirtiendo sobre la variedad y el eventual intercambio de papeles de los o f participantes; un elenco de fuentes narrativas es su principal base. El tercero parte de un episodio colateral —las negociaciones matrimoniales del joven rey Alfonso VII reflejadas en un borrador

de memoria oficial—, para reflexionar sobre cómo las tropas que se incorporaban a la hueste y los r i g in al s actos propiciatorios jalonaron la marcha de un ejército hacia el enemigo. El cuarto y último cuadro O se centra en el relato de una revuelta de aire local; aparte de una breve noticia arqueológica, indica como la descripción del destino de los vencidos sugiere prácticas habituales.

1. Buscando recursos para la guerra

Relata la Historia Compostelana que doña Urraca donó a la catedral de Santiago el “realengo e infantazgo” situado entre los ríos Tambre y Ulla, amén de inmuebles en la propia ciudad de San- tiago y algunas aldeas. El episodio se sitúa hacia 1112. Este hecho afortunado robusteció el señorío que la sede apostólica ejercía sobre el territorio; al mismo tiempo, reforzó la fidelidad del obispo y el cabildo de la catedral hacia la soberana. Pero es visible otra circunstancia. La reina carecía de recursos para afrontar una nueva campaña contra Alfonso el Batallador, pues ya había gastado casi todo el tesoro acumulado por su padre en las anteriores. El obispo y los canónigos decidieron que “no debía negarse a la reina el [nuevo] auxilio ni el consejo que había solicitado a la iglesia [de Compostela]”. “Así pues, ordenaron por propia iniciativa que se dieran a la reina... cien onzas de oro y doscientas marcas de plata del tesoro de Santiago, para luchar contra el peor devastador de España y poner en fuga al perturbador de todo el reino”4. La reina se había acercado a la basílica a solicitar la protección del Apóstol ante las desgracias que aquejaban al país. Solicitó las oraciones de sus sacerdotes, mostrándose generosa. Los canóni- gos actuaron conociendo su proyecto de reemprender la guerra y su penuria; además sus propios deberes de auxilium y consilium los obligaban hacia la reina... Queda en la duda si los hechos ocu- rrieron como se escribieron, combinando la conciencia de lo sagrado con los deberes de fidelidad feudal. En cambio, es evidente que el episodio ilustra sobre cierta dinámica general. La guerra entre Urraca y su marido había devorado el tesoro de Alfonso VI en menos de dos años. Fue ne- cesario recurrir a los tesoros de las instituciones eclesiásticas. Que habían sido alimentados por la larga época de expansión señorial y de profundas reformas, por el buen entendimiento entre los

4. Historia Compostellana...: I, 92-93.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 427 poderosos, y por un ambiente de autoridad y paz. Además, la sede de Compostela añadía su carác-

nglish ter de meta de la gran peregrinación jacobea; esto significaba ingresos constantes por las limosnas y

E la intensa actividad comercial. A cambio, la reina tuvo que renunciar a un considerable patrimonio in regio, donándolo a catedrales y monasterios. Por lo común, se trataba de tierras e inmuebles rús- ticos y urbanos, así como de aldeas (hereditates y villas). Por su condición, la soberana disponía de una amplísima y compleja suma de bienes y derechos (el llamado realengo), y podía disponer del ubmitted infantazgo (los bienes cedidos a las hijas de los reyes discretamente consagradas a Dios; entre sus S elementos destacaban los monasterios de la parentela regia). n o t La documentación de la cancillería de la reina da noticia del abanico de prácticas que encierra este argumento, a la vez que sugiere dos fases de las requisiciones, cada una con escenario propio5. exts

T Además de la catedral de Compostela, el monasterio de Samos y las catedrales de Mondoñedo, 6 the Oviedo y Lugo aportan los datos de una fase inicial que cubre los años 1111-1112 ; los testimonios

o f se sitúan en las regiones septentrionales del reino, Asturias y Galicia. En cambio, casi todos los tes-

timonios posteriores se localizan en las regiones del oeste de la Meseta del Duero; al menos entre 1114 y 1124, la reina o sus oficiales obtuvieron recursos de las sedes de Palencia, León y Astorga, y 7 riginals de los monasterios de Husillos, San Juan de Baños y Valcabado . Esta doble geografía de las requi- O siciones sugiere que la soberana buscó refugio en las tierras del Atlántico al comienzo de la crisis; su marido dominaba entonces el centro del reino. Después, doña Urraca consolidó su posiciones en este área; pero el bando de su hijo Alfonso Raimúndez debió frenar debió su actividad en casi toda Galicia. Varias de las instituciones mencionadas fueron repetidamente solicitadas. Si, como queda indi- cado, Samos lo fue en 1112 y 1120, el tesoro del pequeño monasterio de Valcabado fue estragado en 1115 y 1116 (quizá ya lo había sido en 1112), el de la catedral de Palencia, al menos en 1114 y antes de 1124, y el de la de León, en 1116, 1118 y hacia 1122. La reiteración de los hechos no es ajena, desde luego, al tono que usaba Alfonso VII cuando se propuso compensar al monasterio de Sahagún por sus saqueos, o al del Primer Anónimo, cuando refiere las continuas exigencias de los secuaces de Alfonso el Batallador en el mismo lugar. De modo que la concentración de noticias en determinados centros no señala el número de los esquilmados, sino que es síntoma del dilatado proceso de esquilmo que sufrieron las casas religiosas, del que sólo algunas han guardado memoria. Pero la contribución a solucionar las necesidades de doña Urraca no dependió sólo de las insti- tuciones de la Iglesia. El arcediano de Oviedo entregó una valiosa copa a la reina en 1112, a la vez que la catedral le franqueaba su tesoro; cabe imaginar a otros dignatarios de la propia sede actuan- do de forma similar, o réplicas de este tipo en los demás cabildos. Por su parte, los laicos también contribuyeron a la causa. Se sabe muy poco por la rara conservación de los documentos que no quedaron en manos eclesiásticas. Los personajes mejor identificados son el conde Froila Díaz y su

5. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca (1109-1126) Cancilleria y colección diplomática. León: Leon Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 2003. La veintena de diplomas sobre este tipo de operaciones suma el 15% de los documen- tos de la cancillería regia conocidos: una cifra considerable, signo de las derivaciones del asunto. El número de diplomas regios y particulares de este periodo es mucho menor que en los tiempos anteriores y posteriores; además, este tipo de documentación es privativo del reinado de Urraca. Por otra parte, es razonable pensar que la nómina de instituciones requeridas y el volumen de las exigencias fue muy superior. 6. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 397-398 (doc. nº 27), 398-405 (doc. nº 28), 412-414 (doc. nº 33) y 415-418 (doc. nº 35). 7. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 445-447 (doc. no 57), 450-452 (doc. nº 60), 473-475 (doc. nº 76), 483 (doc. nº 81), 498-500 (doc. nº 92), 529-532 (doc. nº 109), 539-542 (doc. nº 115), 555-558 (doc. nº 125), 558-559 (doc. nº 126) y 580-582 (doc. nº 141).

428 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 esposa Estefanía, Bermudo Pérez y Diego Fernández, de cuyas aportaciones en los años 1112-1113 8 quedan noticias que afirman el arraigo del partido de Urraca dentro de la nobleza . n gl is h

En la misma línea del episodio de la Historia Compostelana, hay diplomas que justifican las E in requisiciones por la necesidad de defender el reino contra “los invasores” o “la gente extranjera”. Pero también se denuncian los ataques de los “condes de la tierra”. En lo cual se percibe la escala local de la guerra entre bandos, al mismo tiempo que se identifica a ciertos beneficiarios de la cri- sis9. Aunque la reina concedió principalmente tierras a cambio de numerario, también confirmó ubm i tted S ocasionalmente privilegios fiscales, o devolvió a sus dueños bienes y derechos secuestrados tiempo no t atrás. El valor de alguna de estas compensaciones genera dudas, más que la suma obtenida por doña Urraca10. e x t s

En todo caso, el conjunto de operaciones revela que la reina acaparó tanto numerario como T

objetos preciosos. Destacan las cantidades de oro y plata amonedados, a los que eventualmente the

se identifica por su origen islámico o pirenaico. Son “dinares” y “dirhemes” descritos comoauri o f purissimi metcales y solidi purisimo pondere maurisco, o bien solidorum iaccensis monete; más imprecisos, los solidos de denarios pueden denotar acuñaciones locales y moneda de cobre. Pero es frecuente que

el metal aparezca valorado al peso (pondere pessato) en marcas o marcos de plata y uncias u onzas de r i g in al s oro. Aparte de lo cual se describen variados objetos de metales preciosos: vasos y copas, cubiertos O y piezas de vajilla, algún anillo o cierta pieza del arnés de montar; a ellos se suman los ornamentos sagrados —cruces, cálices, más algún frontal o tabla de altar11. ¿Cuál fue el destino de los objetos? En general, las noticias se limitan a anotar de qué se hizo cargo la reina y cuánto valía o pesaba. Por eso resultan significativos los datos de dos expolios sufri- dos por el monasterio de Valcabado. No registran un acto de cancillería, sino las circunstancias que implicaba la decisión de confiscar. A comienzos de 1115, la soberana ordenó a Tello Fernández, su hombre de confianza en el territorio de Saldaña, que entregase a “Pedro González” (tal vez el con- de Pedro González de Lara, principal magnate de su bando), “la plata” del monasterio (tres vasos, un salero y una “cithara”, quizá un pequeño caldero), que se valoró, señalándose a continuación del citado pago la correspondiente suma. A fines del año siguiente, la reina ordenó al mismo Tello Fernández que hiciera desmontar la cruz del monasterio; era una pieza de plata que había manda-

8. Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 405-407 (doc. nº 29), 423-424 (doc. nº 39), 431 (doc. nº 46), 435 (doc. nº 50) y 457-459 (doc. nº 65) (ver además nota 34). 9. Así, la reina expresaba que con las 12 marcas de plata requisadas en la catedral de Mondoñedo (1112), combatiría a los condes que perjudicaban los intereses de la propia sede, recientemente establecida en Villamayor de Val de Brea (Volens Valibriensem ecclessiam... deliberare de multis persecutionibus quae actenus per comites terrarum passa est; Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 397-398 (doc. nº 27). 10. El Liber Testamentorum y el Libro de la Regla Colorada de la Catedral de Oviedo incluyen sendas versiones de un documento que anota la enorme suma de dinero y metales preciosos que el famoso obispo Pelayo de Oviedo entregó a la reina en 1112, procedentes del tesoro de la sede: 9280 metkales y 10400 solidos. Por su parte, doña Urraca le concedía localidades, monasterios, tierras y familias serviles y —sobre todo—, la propia ciudad de Oviedo a perpetuidad, con su castillo, territorio y jurisdicción, sicut ad regale ius pertinet. Los especialistas rechazan esta última parte, así como las fór- mulas diplomáticas utilizadas (Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca... : 163-165). 11. Gautier Dalché, Jean. “L’ ‘argent’ dans l’Historia Compostelana. Un moment de l’histoire monetaire du León et de la Castille”, Estudios en Homenaje a Don Claudio Sánchez Albornoz en sus 90 años [Anexos de Cuadernos de Historia de España]. Bue- nos Aires: Instituto de Historia de España, 1983: II, 423-452. Tiene especial interés la noticia que acompaña a la requisa del frontal del altar principal de la Catedral de Lugo, dedicado a la Virgen María, en 1112. El texto solicita su auxilio para conseguir y poseer el reino pacíficamente; también pondera las reliquias mariales que se guardan en la sede, los milagros que obran y las limosnas que se reciben. En fin, se valora la requisa en 100 marcas de plata y se asegura que está destina- da al pago de las tropas regias (ut reddam donativa militibus meis) (Ruiz, Irene. La reina doña Urraca...: 412-414, doc. nº 33).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 429 do fabricar su tía la infanta Elvira. Se obtuvieron nueve marcas de plata; siete de ellas se entregaron 12 nglish a cierto Pedro Peláez. Cristianos y judíos de la cercana villa de Saldaña dieron fe de ambos actos .

E Como puede apreciarse, en la corte se tomaban medidas para la provisión de recursos que eje- in cutaban los oficiales territoriales como Tello Fernández. A la hora de decidir o de ejecutar las deci- siones, parece que no sólo se tenían en cuenta criterios crematísticos, ni se buscó despojar instantá- neamente a las casas de todas sus preseas. Así, primero se recogieron las piezas ricas del servicio de ubmitted mesa; fue casi dos años después cuando se desmontó una cruz litúrgica que había sido encargada S por una mujer de la propia familia real, es decir, que conjugaba un doble componente de venera- n o t ción y respeto. Las tareas de peritaje —como pesar y eventualmente desmontar las piezas—, debían confiarse a expertos; la intervención de orfebres de origen hebreo es sugerida por el protagonismo exts

T de los judíos locales en las actas, muy extraño en las costumbres diplomáticas salvo que mediasen

the circunstancias como las que hacen al caso. En fin, los hechos proponen que la venta o inversión de

o f los recursos allegados podía ser inmediata, y que los gastos de guerra los consumían rápidamente.

2. La guerra, ejercicio de desorden, destrucción y rapiña riginals

O En la situación bélica del reinado de doña Urraca y la intensa devastación que conllevó, toda la sociedad estuvo implicada. Los diplomas, las crónicas y otros relatos coinciden en esta percepción. En 1127, cierto diploma de Alfonso VII levantaba acta de los crueles y sistemáticos estragos que habían sufrido los bienes y los hombres del rey en León y en la Tierra de Campos: mencionaba el asesinato y robo de los judíos, la destrucción de palacios, bodegas y graneros regios, la quema de sus montes y el esquilmo de sus cazaderos. No se acusaba de estos crímenes a individuos aislados o a bandas de forajidos. El nuevo rey impuso una multa a todos los hogares de un amplio contorno —los territorios y alfoces situados entre los ríos Cea y Carrión, el Camino de Santiago y las monta- ñas cantábricas. También destacó que los disturbios habían comenzado a la muerte de Alfonso VI, sin cesar hasta tiempos recientes13. El Primer Anónimo del monasterio de Sahagún describe algo muy parecido sobre el mismo esce- nario14. Otros datos similares se conocen en diversas áreas del reino, con una incidencia particular a

12. Debo a Amancio Isla un comentario perspicaz. Aunque el segundo texto parece reflejar que se dio gran parte de la plata de la cruz a Pedro Peláez para un caballo, es posible que las siete marcas de plata remuneraran sus (indeterminados) servicios, y que Pedro Peláez entregara el caballo como roboratione, un gesto de ofrenda tradicional; con él, los benefi- ciarios de una merced regia respondían al donativo recibido. Las roborationes (robra) también se aprecian en operaciones particulares. Pueden denominarse ofertiones, y conceptualmente se asimilan a la noción de “contradón”. Estos dos textos se escribieron en forma de notitia, aprovechando un blanco del fol. 3r del llamado “Beato de Valcavado” (una copia de los conocidos “Comentarios al Apocalipsis” de Beato de Liébana, fechada en 970; se guarda en la Biblioteca Histórica de la Universidad de Valladolid). En realidad, hay cuatro notitias, dos de ellas ilegibles; es muy posible que todas trataran del mismo tema y se escribieran en el mismo momento. El editor interpreta que su inserción en un manuscrito prestigioso estaba cargada de simbolismo, pues solemnizaba una futura reclamación (Ruiz, José Manuel. “El códice del Beato de Valcavado”, Beato de Valcavado Estudios. Valladolid: Secretariado de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Valladolid, 1993: II, 43-44). 13. ...de malis que fecistis in iudaeos quos occidistis et accepistis suum avere, et in meos palazios quos destruxistis, et panem et vinum que inde accepistis et aurum et argentum et alia omnia multa, et meos montes quos comburastis et abscidistis et extinguistis venatu. Istas tres causas dimitto vobis et progenie vestra per secula. Et hoc feci pro amore Dei et remissione parentum meorum et pro diligentia quam habetis coram me. Et insuper accepi pecunias IIos solidos de argento, de unaquaque casa istorum hominum quos supra diximus. Et ego sum pagadus a vobis, et vos liberi... (Colección Diplomática del Monasterio de Sahagún (857-1230). IV (1110-1199): 111-112, nº 1231). 14. “[Los campesinos] levantáronse entonces a manera de bestias fieras... rompiendo e quebrantando los Palacios de los Reyes, las casas de los nobles, las Iglesias de los Obispos, e las Granjas, e obediencias de los abades; e otrosi gastando todas las cosas necesarias para el mantenimiento, matando los judíos que fallavan...” (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia

430 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 lo largo del Camino de Santiago. En la Castilla occidental, el fuero de Castrogeriz da noticia de que,

tras fallecer Alfonso VI, las gentes de la villa y su territorio atacaron a los judíos que habitaban en n gl is h

Castrillo, una aldea del alfoz, “matando a algunos, apresando a otros y saqueando a todos”15. Otros E in testimonios evocan el estado de ruina general de los ambientes rurales. Entre los más expresivos se halla el inventario de desastres que figura en el preámbulo delfuero de Oca. La discordia entre la reina Urraca y Alfonso el Batallador se había traducido en grandes enfrentamientos entre sus par- tidarios en las tierras de la Castilla oriental. Unos a otros se apresaban exigiendo grandes rescates. ubm i tted S Unos y otros habían convertido ciudades y castillos en guaridas desde donde saquear el contorno, no t violando los lugares sagrados y robando los granos, el vino y los ganados; también cautivaban a sus habitantes, exigiendoles crecidos rescates por su libertad... Eran —dice el texto—, “como sarra- e x t s cenos y cananeos”, “como herejes y cismáticos”. Había tanta desolación que sólo se podía vivir en T 16 cuevas, o bajo el paradójico amparo de ciudades y castillos . the

Otras imágenes detallan cómo las violencias de la guerra activaron la circulación de riquezas o f

—aunque de una forma diferente a las requisas de la reina Urraca. Desde la frontera castellana al corazón de Galicia se recogen los testimonios y sus actores. Los nobles, secundados por los cam-

pesinos, son los protagonistas de uno de los episodios que la Historia compostelana propone para r i g in al s reflexionar. Se trata de la “traición” que hicieron Arias Pérez y otros señores gallegos al arzobispo O Diego Gelmírez y al conde Pedro Froilaz, los paladines del infante Alfonso Raimúndez. Los con- jurados apresaron a la esposa del conde, que ejercía como ama del infante, y a éste mismo, mal- tratando a sus caballeros. Los “traidores” y la “hermandad” que encuadraba a las gentes del país, asaltaron luego el campamento del prelado. Robaron su ajuar y sus preseas sacras, que trocearon para repartírselas. El cronista refiere que adornaron sus cinturones y los bordes de sus vestimentas con la tela de la casulla del obispo; también desmontaron el cáliz de oro que se guardaba en la capilla portátil del prelado, su altar de plata y un crucifijo de extraordinario valor17. Los arneses y

del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún, Madrid 1782, Apéndice Primero, Primer Anónimo: 305). No deja de resultar intrigante la semejanza de ambos textos; por otra parte, cabe valorar éste como un ‘topos’, entendiendo su condena por los eclesiásticos (y su posible exageración), como un recurso para subrayar “los peligros de la subversión del orden” (Pallares, M. Carmen; Portela, Ermelindo. La reina Urraca...: 152). 15. ...Et levaverunt se barones de Castro cum tota sua alfoz ad illa morte de rege Aldefonso super illos iudeos de Castriello, et ex illis occiderunt et ex illis captivaverunt, et totos illos predaverunt...” (Martínez, Gonzalo. Los fueros de Castrogeriz. Burgos: Rico Adrados, 2010: 54). De acuerdo con otra información del mismo fuero, hacia 1035 hubo un primer pogrom en el que perecieron unos sesenta judíos de la villa; los demás fueron obligados a trasladarse a Castrillo, donde se produjo esta segunda masacre. El pueblo aún se llama “Castrillo de Matajudíos”. La reina Urraca y su marido, Alfonso el Batallador, intentaron evitar nuevas matanzas; en adelante, quien matase a un judío de Castrogeriz sufriría la misma pena que por la muerte de un cristiano. 16. Este fuero, conservado entre los fondos del monasterio de San Juan de la Peña, se escribió a mediados del siglo XII. Comienza con una memoria de los orígenes de la villa de Villafranca Montes de Oca, de profundo dramatismo: Audite de temporibus quando mortuus est rex Ildefonsus imperator tocius Spanie... Et prendit unus a destris et alter a sinistris cum hostes suas, et preliabuntur inter se usque ad mortem. Et captivabunt se alter ad alteri sicut sarrazini et canaeni. Et mittunt se in graves presones et in ferros magnos et innumerabiles tormentas in fame et siti et nuditate, usque se reddemissent quantum possunt dare aut promittere. Et exeunt de civitatibus aut de castellis et predabunt omnia terra, monasteriis violabunt, ecclesiis et omnia ornamenta qui ad Deum pertinet extrahunt de eas sicut aeritici et scimatici, sine ulla misericordia. Et predabunt universa terra panem et vinum et omnia in- dumenta et animalia, iumenta et peccora, et omnes homines ducebant captivos et mittebant illis in tortoribus atque cruationibus ut se reddemisent, quod non habebant. Et erat tantum desolata hec terra, ita ut non possunt omnes habitare in ea, si non est in civitate aut in castello vel in spelunca aut in cavernis terrae... (Lacarra, José María, ed. “Dos documentos interesantes para la historia de Portugal”, Colonización, parias, repoblación y otros estudios. Zaragoza: Anubar, 1981: 222). 17. ...non solum omnia presulis suppellectilia abstulerunt, verum etiam, quod humanis auribus terribile insonat, in eius capellam suas manus sacrilegas iniecerunt: eius namque infulam iuxta insaciatam luporum rapacitatem inter se frustatim diripientes suis pra- vis usibus profuturam conservari non horruerunt; ex qua nimirum ínfula suarum vestium horas et limbos quasi decorando sine ulla mora temporis dedecorarunt. Aureum quoque vasculum, quo Dominicum corpus, nostra scilicet hostia salutaris, immolatur, timembri

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 431 equipajes de la aterrada hueste episcopal corrieron la misma suerte. El entendimiento de nobles y

nglish campesinos para llevar a cabo las tropelías que denunciaron los cronistas no debió ser raro en esta

E época18. in El caso de un tal Sancho, servidor de un vecino de Estella, ilustra una perspectiva distinta: la de un modesto combatiente que sirvió como peón o caballero en una de las expediciones militares que Alfonso el Batallador condujo a Castilla. Habiendo ordenado el rey que cada casa aportara un ubmitted hombre para la guerra, el burgués Pedro Engelberti —que fue en su ancianidad monje en el prio- S rato cluniacense de Santa María de Nájera—, lo envió por la suya. En el curso de la expedición no n o t faltaron ocasiones para el robo. En particular, Sancho y sus compañeros saquearon cierta iglesia, de la que se llevaron diversas vestiduras litúrgicas. Según parece, él las traía consigo cuando regresó a exts

T Navarra al cabo de poco tiempo. Murió con esa culpa y, según dejó escrito Pedro el Venerable, su 19 the antiguo amo fue testigo de su penitencia ultraterrena .

o f El papel de las poblaciones urbanas en la guerra ofrece un nuevo punto de vista. Los cronistas

se hacen eco de cómo los vecinos de villas y ciudades participaron en las campañas de Alfonso el Batallador. Al sitio de Astorga concurrieron contingentes de Nájera y Carrión, de León y de Burgos, 20 riginals así como de Zamora, Palencia y Sahagún . Las noticias conciernen particularmente a los burgue- O ses “francos” de esta última villa, los principales antagonistas del monasterio de Sahagún a lo largo del Primer Anónimo. Su autor los retrató como cómplices, incluso instigadores, de las sevicias del rey aragonés, de su hermano el “falso monje” Ramiro y de sus caballeros. En realidad —sostenía—, no había buenos burgueses “francos”, ni siquiera los clérigos, pues en todos primaba una codicia que no se detiene ante el sacrilegio ni el asesinato21. Varios relatos de esta obra reiteran o detallan lo referido en páginas anteriores. Así, hay noti- cias que precisan lo que cuenta el preámbulo del fuero de Oca o la Historia Compostelana sobre los cautiverios y extorsiones que habían acompañado a la guerra de facciones y las correrías. Se habla

divisione partientes ille inferiorem partem, iste vero superiorem, hic autem reliquam parte sibi exsecrabilius vendicare procul procul dubio non formidarunt. Aram denique argenteam et crucifixum mirifica aurificis manu consculptum nulla dissimili ratione partiti sunt... (Historia Compostellana...: 93). 18. La crónica del monasterio de Sahagún destaca la connivencia entre los campesinos sublevados de la comarca (que se organizaron también como “hermandad”), con aquellos nobles que se mostraban dispuestos a ser sus defensores: “...En este tiempo todos los rústicos labradores, é menuda gente se ayuntaron, faciendo conjuración contra sus señores, que ninguno de ellos diese a sus señores servicio debido. E a esta conjuración llamaban hermandad... e si alguno de los No- bles les diese favor e ayuda, á tal como este deseaban que fuese su Rey, y Señor...” (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 305). 19. En 1141, el famoso abad Pedro el Venerable viajó a España para negociar con Alfonso VII la restauración del censo de 500/1000 monedas de oro que sus antepasados Fernando I y Alfonso VI habían pagado en otro tiempo al monasterio de Cluny. Al pasar por el priorato de Nájera, escuchó del propio Pedro Engelberti el relato de una prodigiosa visión. Una vez se le había aparecido el espectro del sirviente, fallecido a poco de regresar de la guerra. Le encargó de saldar ciertas deudas que había dejado cuando murió; al mismo tiempo, le contó que formaba parte de “un ejército” de almas en pena que acudían a Castilla en reparación los crímenes que cometieron en las campañas de Alfonso el Batallador. También le explicó que el rey aragonés había pasado largo tiempo en el Purgatorio, antes de ser liberado “por las oraciones de los monjes cluniacenses” (Petrus Venerabilis, De Miraculis. Mâcon: Bibliotheca Cluniacensis, 1915: 1293-1296; Lacarra, José María. “Una aparición de ultratumba en Estella”. Príncipe de Viana, 14 (1944): 173-184). 20. Historia Compostellana: 113-114; contrasta la identificación de las tropas delBatallador según las villas y ciudades de procedencia con la del ejercito de la reina, de aire territorial (se mencionan Galicia y la Tierra de Campos, más castella- nos y asturianos). Sobre la importancia de la emigración de “francos” a los territorios occidentales de la península, su alteridad y su papel dinamizador de los ambientes urbanos, Martínez, Pascual. “Los francos en la España de los siglos XI y XII”, Los fueros de Avilés y su época, Juan Ignacio Ruiz de la Peña, María Josefa Sanz, Miguel Calleja, coords. Oviedo: Real Instituto de Estudios Asturianos, 2012: 253-280. 21. Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 313 y 320.

432 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 con crudeza de cómo los burgueses apresaban a “nobles y caballeros” o a “medianos y ricos” de los

contornos. El objetivo era obtener de ellos cuantiosos rescates. Los presos eran sometidos a torturas n gl is h de todo tipo para doblegar su voluntad, y quien podía se procuraba rehenes que lo sustituyeran. E in También se describe la aparición de un mercado de reventa de cautivos; su precio variaba según lo que cada uno podía ofrecer para comprar su propia libertad y la competencia entre sus captores para obtener “mayor ganancia de ellos” 22. El abad de Sahagún aparece como víctima de un asalto parecido al del obispo Gelmírez en la ubm i tted S Historia Compostelana. Con ocasión de una gira por sus prioratos u “obediencias”, el abad Domingo no t había llegado a San Pedro de las Dueñas, el cercano monasterio que era la filial femenina de Sa- hagún. Burgueses de esta villa y caballeros aragoneses sorprendieron allí a la comitiva, desvaliján- e x t s 23 dola por completo . San Pedro de las Dueñas sufrió otros ataques. En uno de ellos, los burgueses T

irrumpieron en el monasterio, “y robaron todo aquello que sus manos hallaron”. Entre otras cosas, the

24 los caudales puestos a resguardo por miembros de la nobleza en el lugar . De forma que el monas- o f terio no pudo dar protección a las riquezas de las gentes de alcurnia: según la Historia Compostelana, las iglesias de la Extremadura o la Tierra de Campos tampoco la habían dado a lo que las gentes

comunes depositaban en ellas, con la vana esperanza de que su condición sacra lo preservara de r i g in al s la rapiña. O Los testimonios son coincidentes: el reinado de Urraca fue un tiempo de guerra, y en ese tiem- po, la circulación de riquezas adquirió rasgos peculiares, entre los que sobresale la confiscación continuada y general. Monarcas y caballeros, burgueses y campesinos, cristianos y judíos. Todos participaron en los avatares de una época con aire de festín sangriento, incluso intercambiando los papeles según las circunstancias. Es patente, por otra parte, que la confiscación no afectó sólo a objetos preciosos. La confiscación de tierras con destino a las necesidades de la guerra se intercala de forma habitual en las operacio- nes. Sin duda, las rentas de la tierra formaron parte de la financiación de la guerra, costeando los salarios de los banderizos25.

3. El ejército en marcha: La campaña contra Alfonso el Batallador (1127)

Pedro, arcediano de la catedral de Barcelona, pasó buena parte del verano de 1127 en tierras del Duero. Había sido enviado por su señor, Ramón Berenguer III, conde de Barcelona y Besalú, dux y marqués de Provenza, a recibir en su nombre un solemne juramento de Alfonso VII y de sus magnates. En el marco de las negociaciones para el matrimonio del flamante soberano de León y

22. Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 322-324. Las sevicias podían acabar en la muerte del prisionero, como se narra a propósito de cierto burgués, en cuya casa fueron encontrados los restos de varias personas que había asesinado: “era por cierto aquel eunuco del cuento e numero de aquellos que acostumbraban comprar los captivos, e dándoles graves tormentos demandábanles siete tanto de aquello que habían dado” (página 345). 23. ...Luego los echaron por tierra, las arcas e todo lo que llevábamos todo lo tomaron, y despojaron a los hombres, in- cluida la capilla que el abad portaba (Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 322). 24. Escalona, Romualdo de. Historia del Real Monasterio de San Benito de Sahagún...: 331. 25. A comienzos de abril de 1127, Alfonso VII devolvió al monasterio de Sahagún el priorato de San Salvador de Nogal de las Huertas, situado cerca de la villa de Carrión. Recordando las dificultades a que se enfrentó para conseguir el reino, el monarca explicó que lo había requisado para pagar con sus bienes y rentas a sus caballeros (multis pro captando regno neccesitatibus... meis illud militibus dedi; Colección Diplomática del Monasterio de Sahagún (857-1230). IV (1110-1199): 110-111, doc. nº 1230).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 433 Castilla con su hija Berenguela, el conde les exigió garantizar que la unión se bendeciría canónica-

nglish mente, y que el monarca nunca abandonaría a su esposa.

E Cierta escritura del Archivo de la Corona de Aragón da cuenta del compromiso a través de una in sucesión de ceremonias semejantes al juramento de Alfonso VII a su futuro suegro26. En cada oca- sión se precisa el lugar, el día y los nombres de los compromisarios. Las ceremonias se escalonaron entre el 23 de junio y el 25 de julio. En aquella primera fecha, el arcediano recibió en el monasterio ubmitted de Sahagún el juramento del monarca, secundado por uno de sus nobles. Seis días más tarde, el 29 S de junio, el monasterio de San Zoilo de Carrión fue escenario de la segunda. El arcediano estaba el n o t día 2 de julio en Frómista, cuya iglesia de San Martín acogió la tercera. El día 4 de julio se celebró la cuarta en Palenzuela (Palencie comitis en el texto). Los días 9 y 25 del mismo mes, el arcediano exts

T recabó los últimos compromisos en dos iglesias de Burgos. Sus comentadores han estimado que la

the alianza entre Barcelona y León, asegurada con el matrimonio de Alfonso y Berenguela en el otoño

27 o f de 1128, entrañaba la voluntad de neutralizar al rey Alfonso el Batallador .

Pero el documento invita a otras lecturas. Los nombres de los participantes, los elementos ri- tuales que contiene, o la secuencia de los actos, ofrecen información bastante sobre quiénes eran

riginals probablemente los hombres del momento, sobre las formas de subrayar el carácter sagrado de un O pacto, o sobre el sentido de lo territorial. De entrada, el conjunto de escenarios llama la atención. Se aprecia que las ceremonias se con- centraron en cierto tramo del Camino de Santiago a su paso por la Meseta. En efecto, las villas de Sahagún, Carrión y Frómista, más la ciudad de Burgos, se situaban una tras otra sobre el corredor, glosado poco tiempo después por la “Guía del Peregrino”28. Dos precisiones son oportunas: es visi- ble que el arcediano estaba viajando en sentido inverso —es decir, como si viniera de Santiago de Compostela—, y que abandonó la ruta momentáneamente después de Frómista, desviándose unos kilómetros al sur para detenerse en Palenzuela; en las últimas semanas de su gestión permaneció en la capital castellana, de nuevo sobre el Camino. El discurrir de sus etapas simplemente certifica el significado del Camino como eje articulador del reino en esa época. No es poco: además de su carácter de vía peregrina, como quiere la citada guía, el corredor jacobeo era la principal ruta de comunicación del norte hispánico, “la gran ruta” que describía al-Idrîsî por los mismos tiempos29; las villas y ciudades que lo festoneaban eran, por tanto, un rosario de puntos estratégicos para el comercio, el control del espacio o la guerra, así como para la piedad.

26. Archivo de la Corona de Aragón, Real Cancillería, pergaminos de Ramón Berenguer III, s/f, nº 28. La fórmula empleada consiste en un juramento al conde (Iuro ego [X, Y, Z...] tibi Raimundo Barchinonensis et Bisuldunensis comiti et Provincie duci ac marchioni) donde se garantiza el matrimonio del soberano con Berenguela cum benediccione ecclesiastica et... eam ullo modo non dimittat per Deum et hec [sanctam scripturam]. 27. Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte. Mariage et pouvoir en Catalogne (785-1213). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 1995: 373-374. Reilly, Bernard F. The Kingdom of León-Castilla Under King Alfonso VII 1126-1157. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998: 19-20. Reilly la ha considerado un testimonio de la urgencia del joven rey por casarse y ase- gurar su posición política, todavía inestable, subrayando las peculiaridades y carencias diplomáticas del texto. Mientras Aurell sugiere que es un original (“el emisario de Ramón Berenguer III había vuelto a Barcelona con el documento que daba fe de su promesa”, Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte...: 373), Reilly estima que el documento, “escrito en letra carolina sobre una pieza irregular de pergamino”, es “una copia del siglo XIII que está extraída de una relación más larga y formal por un escriba que no estaba demasiado familiarizado con el texto más antiguo del original” (p. 19, no 15). 28. Liber Sancti Iacobi. Codex Calixtinus, eds. Klaus Herbers, Manuel Santos. La Coruña: Xunta de Galicia, 1998: 236, liber V, capitulum III [de nominibus villarum itineris Sancti Iacobi]:...inde urbs Burgas [Burgos], inde Alterdallia [Tardajos], inde Furnellos [Hornillos], inde Castra Sorecia [Castrogeriz], inde pons Fiterie [el puente de Hitero], inde Frumesta [Frómista], inde Karrionus [Carrión de los Condes], que est villa abilis et obtima, pane et vino et carne et omni fertilitate felix, inde est Sanctus Facundus [Sahagún], omnibus felicitatibus affluens... 29. Idrîsî. La prémière géographie de l’Occident, Henri Bresc, Annliese Nef, eds. París: Flammarion, 1999: 41.

434 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 Desde este enfoque, la Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris ofrece un testimonio paralelo sobre el deli-

cado momento que se vivía en el oeste peninsular. Cuenta que el rey Alfonso el Batallador había n gl is h entrado en Castilla en el verano de 1127 para reforzar Nájera, Castrogeriz y “otros muchos castillos E in que poseía en derredor”. Al conocer la noticia, Alfonso VII mandó emisarios a Galicia y Asturias, León y Castilla para reunir tropas. Se congregó un gran ejército, que fue al encuentro de los ara- goneses y los avistó en Vallis Tamari. El lugar, situado entre Castrogeriz y Hornillos del Camino, debe corresponder a las cercanías del actual Tamarón. Un siglo antes había tenido lugar allí otro ubm i tted S encuentro bélico, donde Fernando I de Castilla venció y dio muerte al rey Vermudo III de León. no t Pero esta vez no se llegó a combatir. La Chronica sostiene que, consciente el Batallador de su difícil posición y de que no se podía retirar sin peligro de ser hostigado, envió embajadores a Alfonso VII. e x t s

En su propuesta prometía regresar a su tierra antes de cuarenta días, y no abandonar la via en todo T 30 el trayecto. Alfonso VII la aceptó, presionado por sus consejeros . the

Considerando estas circunstancias, se hace evidente que el clérigo catalán acompañaba al ejér- o f cito regio en su marcha hacia el este. Los lugares mencionados indican las etapas que siguió y jus- tifican una omisión significativa: en circunstancias normales, el arcediano hubiera ido de Frómista

a Burgos pasando por Castrogeriz, sin abandonar el Camino; su quiebro hacia el sur recuerda que r i g in al s en 1127 se vivían circunstancias excepcionales. Castrogeriz era una de las plazas que estaban en O manos aragonesas desde tiempo atrás; como se ha indicado al principio, su guarnición no la aban- donó hasta 1131. Fechas y lugares de los juramentos sugieren otras reflexiones. El 23 de junio, víspera de la fiesta San Juan Bautista, la primera de las ceremonias se celebró sobre el altar dedicado al santo Precur- sor en el monasterio de Sahagún: sin duda, la conjunción tan precisa de momento y espacio servía para reforzar la sacralidad del acto, integrándolo en las solemnidades propias de una de las grandes fiestas del calendario litúrgico. En cuanto al 29 de junio, la ceremonia tuvo como escenario el altar de la Virgen María en San Zoilo de Carrión. En este caso, el propio texto nombra la festividad del día, no la fecha del mes (die festo Sancti Petri), lo que subraya el carisma de la ceremonia: la conme- moración de San Pedro, de particular relieve en la orden de Cluny por ser co-patrono de la casa. La conmemoración de San Pedro también impregna la inmediata jura sobre el altar de San Martín de Frómista (sabbato post festum Sancti Petri). Cabe apostillar que este otro monasterio dependía de San Zoilo de Carrión, y que su fundación a mediados del siglo XI por la condesa-reina Mayor, madre de Fernando I, lo asociaba estrechamente con la familia real; la reina Urraca había renunciado a su propiedad en fecha tan reciente como 111831. Por lo que hace a Palenzuela, la celebración ante el altar de Santa Eulalia recuerda que esta adolescente mártir era la patrona de la ciudad de Barcelona y co-titular de su catedral, donde se

30. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris, [Chronica Hispana Saeculi XII. Pars I], eds. Emma Falque, Juan Gil, Antonio Maya. Turnhout: Brepols, 1990: 154-155. Tal via es el propio Camino de Santiago. 31. Reformado por Alfonso VI, Sahagún albergaba la tumba de este monarca, abuelo de Alfonso VII y modelo de su política restauradora —como se cuidaban de señalar ya entonces sus monjes negros. En este monasterio se seguían las costumbres de Cluny pero no formaba parte de la Cluniacensis Ecclesia, a diferencia de San Zoilo y San Martín de Frómista. Desde antes de 1173, San Zoilo se convirtió en sede estable del Camerarius de Cluny en España —es decir, del representante del abad—, asimilando su prior esta condición; con todo, la casa debió ser residencia de algún camarero anterior, y tal vez el prior Esteban ya reunía ambos cargos hacia 1127 (Reglero, Carlos Manuel. Cluny en España. Los prioratos de la provincia y sus redes sociales (1073-ca. 1270). Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 2008: 608 y siguientes). Sobre los problemas de fundación y arquitectura de este último y famoso monasterio, Senra, José Luis. “Origen, muerte y resurrección de la iglesia de San Martín de Frómista”, Frómista 1066-1904. San Martín, centenario de una restauración, Javier Ribera, coord. Valladolid: Fundación del Patrimonio Histórico de Castilla y León, 2004: 19-37.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 435 veneraban sus reliquias; es oportuno resaltar el simbolismo de un acto que oficiaba un dignatario

nglish de la sede de Santa Cruz y Santa Eulalia como representante del señor de la ciudad de la santa y

E sobre un ara que también guardaba reliquias suyas32. En fin, la ceremonia de juramento sobre el in altar de Santiago de Burgos se celebró el mismo día de la fiesta del apóstol, lo que señala que las claves antes descritas se utilizaron de forma poco menos que sistemática; esta vez, resulta de nuevo oportuno destacar los vínculos —diversos y complejos—, del culto y la casa del “Hijo del Trueno” ubmitted con la monarquía leonesa33. S La personalidad de los nobles garantes del compromiso revela otras claves de la situación34. En n o t Sahagún, al lado del rey estuvo Rodrigo Martínez, princeps Legionis. Rodrigo Martínez podía remon- tar su estirpe como mínimo hasta los primeros tiempos del rey Ramiro II de León, dos siglos atrás. exts

T Su padre, el conde Martín Flaínez, había sido el más importante de los señores leoneses desde el

the umbral de los años 1090 hasta su muerte en la masacre de Uclés de 1108.

o f Cuatro magnates coincidieron en el monasterio de San Zoilo: eran el tenente de la propia villa de

Carrión, Pedro López; Ladrón, un alavés que se había hecho vasallo de Alfonso VII; el conde Suero Vermúdez, señor de las Asturias occidentales, y Ramiro Froilaz. El conde Suero había cimentado su

riginals éxito personal en una fidelidad indesmayable a la reina Urraca, tras cuya muerte pasó al servicio de O su hijo. Ramiro Froilaz, en cambio, era otro miembro de la misma parentela que Rodrigo Martínez; su padre, el conde Froila Díaz, se convirtió en comes legionensium tras la muerte de Martín Flaínez, permaneciendo hasta su desaparición en 1119 junto a la reina. En cambio, en Frómista solo juró “el conde Pedro de Lara”, es decir, Pedro González de Lara, nunca bien visto por el hijo y sucesor de Urraca35. En Palenzuela juraron otros dos magnates: Lope Díaz “de Alava” —identificado de forma común por su sobrenombre “de Haro” y su título de

32. Tradiciones paralelas proponen que hubo dos santas homónimas que padecieron suplicios similares en tiempos del emperador Diocleciano, la una en Mérida y la otra en Barcelona. Se han buscado distintas explicaciones a tan rara coincidencia. La más verosímil no cuestiona la antigüedad del culto de la santa emeritense y sugiere que “la presencia de una reliquia [suya en Barcelona] dio origen a la duplicación de las santas”; faltan pruebas sólidas para pensar que este hecho se produjo antes del siglo VIII, fechándose la inventio de las reliquias barcelonesas y su traslado a la catedral en 877 (García, Carmen. El culto de los santos en la España romana y visigoda. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1966: 284-303; cita de p. 288). El traslado y culto de reliquias de la Eulalia emeritense a tierras del noroeste pudo ser posterior a la conquista islámica (como ocurre en otros casos). En suma, pudo recrearse un escenario distinto de la pasión de la mártir —y duplicar su personalidad. Por otra parte, la difusión del culto a Santa Eulalia en Castilla y León pudo depender en alguna medida del clima religioso del noreste hispánico: cabe recordar, en particular, a los eclesiásticos catalanes presentes en Oviedo y Palencia en el siglo XI, así como su influjo en la implantación de algún otro culto, en particular el de San Antolín (Martínez, Gonzalo. La sede episcopal de Palencia hasta 1085. Palencia: Asociación de Amigos de la Catedral, 1994). De todas formas, es probable que arcediano y asistentes a la ceremonia asimilaran sin mayores problemas a las dos supuestas mártires. 33. Herbers, Klaus. Política y veneración de santos en la Península Ibérica. Desarrollo del “Santiago político”. Pontevedra: Fun- dación Cultural de Amigos del Románico, 2006: 43-55; el autor estima crucial el reinado de Alfonso VII. 34. Una visión general de la nobleza de este periodo, acompañada de una útil prosopografía de los condes, en Barton, Simon. The aristocracy in twelfth-century León and Castile. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Varios de los no- bles citados en el texto han suscitado monografías recientes. Para Suero Vermúdez: Calleja, Miguel. El conde Suero Vermú- dez, su parentela y su entorno social. La aristocracia asturleonesa en los siglos XI y XII. Oviedo: KRK ediciones, 2001. Sobre Pedro y Rodrigo González de Lara: Sánchez, Antonio. Los Lara. Un linaje castellano de la plena Edad Media. Burgos: Diputación de Burgos, 2007: 29-47. Respecto a Rodrigo Martínez y su primo lejano Ramiro Froilaz: Martínez, Pascual. “Los espacios de poder de la nobleza leonesa en el siglo XII”, La pervivencia del concepto. Nuevas reflexiones sobre la ordenación social del espacio en la Edad Media, José Ángel Sesma, Carlos Laliena, coords. Zaragoza: Universidad de Zaragoza, 2008: 219-257. 35. En la misma línea, Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris —modelo de crónica palatina—, no duda en denunciar repeti- damente su connivencia con el soberano aragonés; esta vez, lo responsabiliza de impedir que Alfonso VII lanzara un ataque decisivo contra su enemigo.

436 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 conde de Vizcaya—, y García Garcés de Nájera, hijo de otro de los caídos en Uclés, el conde García

Ordóñez. n gl is h

En Burgos hubo dos ceremonias sucesivas, como se ha indicado. La que tuvo lugar ante el altar E in de San Esteban fue protagonizada por el conde Rodrigo “de las Asturias” (Rodrigo González, her- mano del señor de Lara), que dominaba las “Asturias de Santillana”, y el conde Bertrán de Risnel, uno de los nobles francos que entraron en Castilla con Alfonso “el Batallador”36. En fín, al jura- mento sobre el altar de Santiago concurrió Rodrigo Gómez; procedía de la casa de los Salvadórez, ubm i tted S señores de la Bureba, y su padre había sido el conde Gómez González, muerto tempranamente al no t servicio de la reina Urraca. Las áreas donde predominaban unos y otros abarcaban un amplio espacio, desde el Cantábrico e x t s al Duero, y desde el Bierzo al Ebro y las sierras ibéricas. Aunque no mencione a nobles de Galicia, T

el documento compone un cuadro muy significativo. A partir de estos datos, cierta dinámica se the

pone en evidencia. Por una parte, las garantías que el conde de Barcelona había demandado se o f fueron dando por etapas, según los grandes señores se incorporaban con sus mesnadas a la hueste real que avanzaba por el Camino de Santiago al encuentro de Alfonso el Batallador (o incluso en

Burgos, con la campaña concluida con ventaja para Alfonso VII). Por otra, el calendario de las festi- r i g in al s vidades y los monasterios, iglesias y altares con las reliquias de sus titulares fueron cuidadosamente O entrelazados. Con ello se enfatizaba el sentido sagrado, memorial y propiciatorio de una repetición de actos políticos. En la combinación de liturgia y poder que los rodeaban se adivina cierto cálculo: el fortalecimiento de los lazos entre el monarca, los caudillos militares y el ejército para asegurar su éxito militar.

4. Los vencidos de 1130

La Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris proporciona muchas otras noticias sobre la prolongación de la inestabilidad y de guerra tras la muerte de doña Urraca en marzo de 1126. Recientemente han sido integradas dentro de una amplia perspectiva que describe la suerte de los vencidos en la España de la alta y plena Edad Media37. Por las páginas de esta crónica desfilan diversos actores, siempre nobles, y variadas fórmulas de resolver los conflictos. La captura necesaria, la misericordia oportuna y el encarcelamiento riguro- so fueron instrumentos útiles para desmantelar las revueltas. El exilio, la humillación y la pérdida de bienes y honores publicaron el fracaso de los revoltosos, a veces definitivo. El reconocimiento de la culpa podía atemperar la ira del rey, según el cronista: en sentido opuesto, los actos culposos llegaron a acarrear la infamia de toda la parentela; además, enemistaban a los rebeldes con los ejecutores de la política regia (que eran siempre otros nobles). La mayor parte de los actores aludidos habían sido personajes relevantes de la corte de la reina Urraca, un posible indicio de que el proceso sucesorio estuvo lejos de las expectativas de muchos de sus fideles. Es el caso de los condes castellanos Pedro y Rodrigo González de Lara, o de los magnates

36. Bertrán de Risnel se había convertido en yerno de conde Pedro González de Lara. Ahora, después de que Burgos hubiera sido recuperada por Alfonso VII, se mantenía como señor de la ciudad; hay que tener en cuenta la ambigua posición de sus nuevos parientes. 37. Alvira, Martín. “Rebeldes y herejes vencidos en las fuentes cronísticas hispanas (siglos XI-XIII)”, El cuerpo derrotados: cómo trataban musulmanes y cristianos a los enemigos vencidos (Península Ibérica, ss. VIII-XIII), Maribel Fierro, Francisco García, coords. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2008: 213-223.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 437 asturianos Gonzalo Peláez y Pedro Díaz. Todos ellos se rebelaron contra su sucesor Alfonso VII en

nglish los primeros años de su gobierno. Lo cierto es que el joven monarca puso su causa en manos de

E otros de los antiguos servidores de su madre, como los condes Suero Vermúdez y Rodrigo Martínez. in La crónica no se detiene en las razones de rebeldes o leales, más allá de denunciar que unos habían traicionado un compromiso de fidelidad al monarca que los otros mantuvieron, y de perci- bir cierta connivencia de algunos con Alfonso el Batallador (una útil ilustración sobre los cambios ubmitted de alianza)38. Después de todo, un relato ejemplarizante como éste no necesita ser un texto muy S analítico. En cambio, algunas de sus descripciones trascienden lo episódico. n o t La rebelión de Pedro Díaz ofrece especial interés para el caso. En 1130, este antiguo paladín de la reina se hizo fuerte en Valle, un oppidum situado a una jornada de camino de León39. Según exts

T parece, le seguían un considerable número de caballeros y peones, que tal vez formaban una mes-

the nada de clientes o vasallos no-nobles. La tarea de someterlo fue encomendada por el rey al conde

o f Rodrigo Martínez, junto con su hermano Osorio. Como no lograban resultados, tuvo que acudir

el propio monarca; él ordenó construir maquinas de asedio a sus ministros, un cuerpo de expertos. Ante sus destructivos efectos, la fortaleza tuvo que rendirse40.

riginals Entonces se produjo un hecho llamativo: Pedro Díaz solicitó ponerse bajo la custodia del rey. O Temía a Rodrigo Martínez, de quien no esperaba misericordia. Conviene advertir que el encargo de atacar al rebelde se explicaba por ser el conde tenente de las Torres de León, el más importante y cercano castillo regio. Este cargo había estado antes en manos del propio Pedro Díaz, lo que puede sugerir un relevo poco amistoso. Además, los compañeros de aventura de Pedro Díaz —tal vez los mismos que habían estado a su servicio en León—, se habían mofado de los inútiles ataques del conde. En efecto, Pedro Díaz consiguió evitar la venganza del conde. Pero el cronista estima que perdió toda posibilidad de obtener un beneficio de Alfonso VII (ni de cualquier oto), muriendo misera-

38. Escalona, Julio. “Misericordia regia, es decir, negociemos. Alfonso VII y los Lara en la Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris”, Lucha política. Condena y legitimación en la España medieval, Isabel Alfonso, Julio Escalona, Georges Martin, coords. Lyon: ENS Éditions, 2004: 101-152. 39. El nombre corresponde al pueblo de Valle de Mansilla. En el lugar se conservan las improntas de dos áreas fortifica- das con obra de tierra, “El Castro” y “La Torre Vieja”. La primera es un recinto situado sobre cierta altura de las terrazas del Esla, de tradición antigua; se estima que fue reocupado en el siglo X. Pero en la centuria siguiente tuvo lugar un proceso de deslizamiento del hábitat al “valle” inferior, su situación actual; al mismo tiempo, debió acondicionarse la segunda de las áreas fortificadas, a escasa distancia de la anterior; es de menor tamaño y posee cierto aspecto de mota (un foso y un talud perimetral la sobreelevan). Ésta última ha sido identificada como eloppidum de Valle de la crónica (Gutiérrez, José Avelino. Fortificaciones y feudalismo en el origen y formación del reino leonés (siglos IX-XIII). Valladolid: Univer- sidad de Valladolid, 1995: 318-321). Consta que Pedro Díaz había sido tenente del lugar durante los años 1120 (Colección Documental del Monasterio de San Pedro de Eslonza. I (912-1300), eds. José Manuel Ruiz, Irene Ruiz. León: Centro de Estu- dios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 2007: 203-206 (doc. nº 81, 1120) y 207-209 (doc. nº 83, 1126); por lo que se lee en este último diploma, tal vez ocupaba también los cargos de tenente de Toledo y de illas torres de León). El autor anota una indicación posterior al castellum que fuit de Petro Didaz: 321 (doc. nº 151; está fechada en 1179). 40. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris...: 159-160: Precepit rex Legionis comiti Roderico Martini et fratri suo Osorio ut uenirent in terram Legionis et obsiderent Petrum Didaci, qui erat rebellis in oppido Valle cum magna turba militum et peditum. Et uenerunt et obsederunt illud castellum. Sed qui intus erant dicebant multam blasphemiam comiti Roderico et fratri suo et comes non poterat firmiter debellare eos. Hoc audito rex festinus uenit et iussit ministris suis facere uineas et machinas et multa ingenia circa muros castelli. Et illi, qui cum rege erant, mittebant super ipsos, qui intus erant, multas sagittas et petras et dirupti sunt muri eius in circuitu. At Petrus Didaci, cum uideret se nimium oppressum, cepit clamare et dicere regi: «Domine mi rex, ego sum reus in te et culpabilis. Deprecor te per Deum, qui te in omnibus adiubat, ne dimittas me nec uxorem meam nec filios meos in manus comitis Roderici, sed tu accipe de me tuam uindictam secundum tuam misericordiam». Hoc audita, rex, sicut solitus erat, misericordia motus est et fecit eum uenire ad se et Pelagium Froyle, qui erat cum eo, et misit eos in tentoria sua. Post paucos uero dies iussit eos liberos abire. Sed Petrus Didaci huc et illuc sine rege et benefactore deuenit in magna egritudine et mortuus est pauper et miser.

438 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 blemente41. Mientras tanto, sus hombres quedaron a merced de Rodrigo Martínez. Lo interesante

de esta parte del texto es que emerge de él un muestrario del trato a los vencidos. En primer lugar n gl is h menciona a aquellos que fueron encerrados en prisión para forzarles a entregar todos sus bienes. E in Luego, a los que quedaron obligados a prestar el servicio propio de los caballeros, pero de forma gratuita y por tiempo indefinido. Formaban el último grupo los acusados de insultar al conde. Fueron expoliados como los primeros, pero además sufrieron una situación infamante, paralela a los agravios que habían causado: se les trató como animales de tiro. El conde “los hizo uncir con ubm i tted S bueyes, y arar y pacer hierbas, y beber agua de las charcas, y comer paja en el pesebre”. Es decir, no t fueron forzados a un servicio que estaba en las antípodas de su condición “militar”, e incluso del servicio de trabajo “humano” que muchos campesinos prestaban periódicamente a sus señores e x t s bajo el nombre de sernas, operas o geras; resulta difícil resolver si se trató de una representación T

simbólica, o si este servicio “animal” se prolongó. No hay que dejar de lado, en fin, que los ecos del the

42 suceso forzaron la sumisión de Coyanza, otro foco rebelde cercano . o f

La colección de sevicias que sufrieron los hombres de Pedro Díaz sugiere cómo el vencedor ob- tenía el mayor provecho de su victoria. Los vencidos pagaban un rescate que representaba renun-

ciar a todos sus recursos materiales y ceder temporalmente su capacidad guerrera. También reflejan r i g in al s la humillación como un código cultural que diferencia grados de culpa y que deja la puerta abierta O al perdón. Pero, especialmente, se percibe que las actitudes de humillar, marginar y explotar a los vencidos se imponen sobre el expediente más elemental, rápido y riguroso: la muerte violenta del rebelde (traidor) como ejercicio de venganza y justicia. Es perceptible que éste también era el expediente menos rentable y pedagógico. Entre otras cosas, porque sus consecuencias dificultaban futuros acuerdos entre quienes percibían fidelidades, alianzas y rebeliones como prácticas políticas. Algo muy distinto de las perspectivas de un cronista, tan (formalmente) seducido por los mensajes providenciales como ligado a sus deberes de escritor palatino.

41. El razonamiento se apoya en un dato reconocido: el éxito personal de los nobles dependía en buena medida de las mercedes y honores regios (o más en general, de generosos benefactores). En ello influían mucho las costumbres sucesorias de la nobleza; sus prácticas cognaticias fragmentaban los patrimonios en cada cambio generacional (Martínez, Pascual. “Reyes y nobles en León (ca. 860-1160)”, Monarquía y sociedad en el reino de León de Alfonso III a Alfonso VII, José María Fernández, coord. León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación San Isidoro 2007: I, 149-200. Otras fuentes y la propia Chro- nica Adefonsi Imperatoris matizan el destino de la parentela de Pedro Díaz. El magnate había pedido al rey que extendiera su protección a su esposa y sus hijos, es decir, a María Ordoñez y a los nueve vástagos de su matrimonio. Pedro Díaz vivió hasta mediados de los años 1130, y su descendencia recompuso el estatus familiar. Lo que conocemos mueve a reflexión. Una de sus hijas, Guntrodo, tuvo relaciones concubinarias con Alfonso VII, de las que nació la infanta-reina Urraca la Asturiana. Su padre el rey la dio como esposa a su aliado el rey García Ramírez de Pamplona; tras quedar viu- da, se convirtió en señora de Asturias —manteniendo el título de “reina”. Otros dos de los hijos de Pedro Díaz, Diego Pérez Abregón y Gonzalo Pérez Gembelín, estuvieron entre los nobles más importantes de esta región; el primero inició el poderoso linaje Álvarez de las Asturias. Tal vez el precio de la misericordia regia fue la entrega de una de las doncellas de la parentela derrotada, lo que a la postre le sirvió para recuperar cierto protagonismo (Torres Sevilla-Quiñones de León, Margarita. Linajes nobiliarios de León y Castilla (Siglos IX-XIII). Salamanca: Junta de Castilla y Leon, Consejeria de Educacion y Cultura 1999: 374-394). 42. Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris...: 160: Comes uero Rodericus, acceptis aliis militibus, alios misit in uinculis, donec redderent uniuersa bona sua, alios fecit sibi seruire multis diebus sine censu, sed illos, qui blasphemabant eum, fecit iungere cum bobus et arare et pascere herbas et bibere aquas in iacubus et comedere paleas in presepio et, expoliatis eis ex omnibus divitiis, permisit eos abire captiuos et miseros. Sed illi, qui erant in Coiancam post Semenum Enneci, hoc uidentes dederunt uillam et castellum regi.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 425-439. ISSN 1888-3931 439 RITMOS EN EL PROCESO DE ELABORACIÓN

nglish PENINSULAR DE LAS PROPUESTAS DE CRUZADA E in

Amancio Isla Universitat Rovira i Virgili ubmitted S n o t

Resumen exts T

the A lo largo del trabajo se presentan algunos de los rasgos de las nuevas propuestas cristianas

o f en la legitimación de la guerra con los musulmanes. La aparición de estos elementos es algo más

temprana en el reino aragonés que en el leonés. Esta prontitud está relacionada, no sólo con una mayor apertura a influencias europeas, sino también con la necesidad de atraer contingentes para

riginals la conquista. Por su parte, el reino leonés había construido una teoría de legitimación, apoyada O en su afirmado vínculo con la monarquía visigoda, de manera que acudirá en mayor medida al registro cruzado cuando se manifiesten las dificultades en época de Alfonso VI, especialmente a partir de 1086.

Nuestra intención es doble. Por un lado queremos analizar el desarrollo de la percepción de la guerra medieval en la Península Ibérica, de manera que se discuta —y, si acaso, se hagan visibles— las posibles transformaciones en los componentes ideológicos y quepa abrir vías a una aproximación al fenómeno en el marco de las categorías de cruzada. En cierto modo, consistiría en señalar y explicar algunas modificaciones en el discurso sobre la guerra que elaboraron las fuentes contemporáneas peninsulares y examinar si los elementos que aparecen en él son compatibles con el concepto histo- riográfico de cruzada. Junto a ese objetivo de fondo, queremos analizar los motivos por lo cuales estas propuestas tuvieron una cronología diferente en los diversos regna hispanos. En última instancia, por qué apareció y se desarrolló en algunos ámbitos, mientras que fue algo más marginal en otros, puesto que, efectivamente, creemos hubo algunos matices, tanto cronológicos como de orden, y no operó del mismo modo en León que en Aragón1. Es conocido que el concepto de cruzada está pasando por un concienzudo debate historiográfico, en el que algunos historiadores han llegado a establecer una serie de condiciones sine qua non, de modo que se han listado numerosos requisitos que habrían de exigirse para poder emplear con pro- piedad la categoría de cruzada2. Se ha tratado de realizar un estudio casi del genoma de la cruzada,

1. El presente trabajo se ha beneficiado de una ayuda a la investigación del Ministerio de Ciencia e Innovación del Gobierno de España, HAR2009-13225. 2. Flori, Jean. “La formation des concepts de guerre sainte et de croisade aux XIe et XIIe siècles: prédication papale et mo- tivations chevaleresques”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte: guerre, idéologie et religion dans l’espace méditerranéen latin (XIe- XIIIe siècle), Daniel Baloup, Philippe Josserand, eds. Toulouse: CNRS-Université de Toulouse II-Le Mirail, 2006: 133-157. Pueden verse también otras obras del autor, como La guerra santa. La formación de la idea de cruzada en el Occidente cristiano. Granada: Trotta, 2003. También, Bachrach, David. Religion and the Conduct of War. Woodbridge: Boydell, 2003: 108 y si- guientes, quien repasa el desarrollo del contenido religioso en la guerra en la primera parte de la Edad Media, valorando las novedades en la dinámica cruzada. Una reflexión restrictiva sobre el caso hispano en. Purkis, William J. Crusading Spirituality in the Holy Land and Iberia,­ c. 1095-c. 1187. Woodbridge-Rochester: Boydell, 2008: 120 y siguientes. Además García-Guijarro, Luis. “¿Cruzadas antes de la primera cruzada? La Iglesia y la guerra santa, siglos IX-XI”, García Sánchez III “el de Nájera” un

440 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 buscando precisar qué es, a los ojos de estos historiadores actuales, lo que define esta realidad. La

intención, presumiblemente, es aquilatar el concepto y poder determinar la pertenencia de determi- n gl is h nadas actuaciones, es decir, establecer cuáles guerras históricas son o no son cruzadas. E in El asunto es relevante, pues pone coto a un exceso en el uso de esta caracterización. Me temo, sin embargo, que la abundancia en la casuística y la exuberancia de las condiciones podrían llevar- nos a que tengamos que enmendar la plana a quienes vivieron el pleno medievo y convencerlos de que no acudieron a una cruzada. Quizá, además, se ha postergado lo que la cruzada tiene de dis- ubm i tted S curso, de construcción no demasiado rígida, un producto más moldeable y afectado por circunstan- no t cias coyunturales, modulable y, por supuesto, con objetivos variados, entre ellos, destacadamente, legitimar la violencia y la conquista. e x t s

Nuestro análisis se dirige, básicamente, a los últimos decenios del siglo XI y se prolonga hasta los T

primeros años del XII. Un análisis de la documentación de ese período nos muestra una cierta dife- the

rencia, que en moderada escala creo relevante, entre las percepciones bélicas que podemos hallar o f en los territorios occidentales de la Península de las que provienen de tierras navarras y aragonesas. Es evidente que operaciones militares, como la empresa militar que se dirigió contra Barbastro en

1064, pudieron tener un impacto fundamental en el desarrollo de las percepciones de la guerra. La r i g in al s campaña de Barbastro afectó a caballeros de Francia, Borgoña y, además, a los fortísimos norman- O dos3. El cronista Amado de Montecassino presenta la expedición como una acción cristiana destinada a someter la chevalerie de li Sarrazin y en su narración cabe encontrar algunos de los rasgos de estas expediciones, como la petición de la ayuda divina y la acción de gracias por la victoria, que también hallamos en operaciones militares al margen de la cruzada. Es probable que hubiera una promoción de esta acción desde Roma, si, como parece, la bula de Alejandro II de 1063 está conectada con esta expedición4. En cualquier caso, la crónica de Saint-Maixent confirma ese fundamento religioso de una movilización militar por el nomen cristiano5.

rey y un reino en la Europa del siglo XI: XV semana de estudios medievales. Nájera: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2005: 290 y siguientes. El debate entre Alexander Bronisch (Reconquista y guerra santa. La concepción de la guerra en la España cristiana desde los visigodos hasta comienzos del siglo XII. Granada: Universidad de Granada, 2006) y Patrick Henriet (“L’idéologie de guerre sainte dans le Haut Moyen Âge hispanique”. Francia, 29/1 (2001): 171-220) merece un análisis en sí mismo. Por nuestra parte, y como se irá viendo, creemos que hay un crescendo derivado de las propias necesidades legitimadoras, lo cual no implica una evolución lineal. 3. Así señala el cronista Amado de Montecassino, quien escribió esta obra entre 1078 y 1086, aunque la conservamos en una traducción al francés de principios del XIV (Ystoire de li Normant, I, 5; ed. Vincenzo de Bartholomeis, Storia de’Normanni. Roma: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1935: 13). Sobre el tema: Ferreiro, Alberto. “The Siege of Barbastro 1064- 65: A reassessment”. Journal of Medieval History, 9 (1983): 129-144. Más reciente, Sénac, Philippe. “Un château en Espagne. Notes sur la prise de Barbastro”, Liber Largitorius, eds. Dominique Barthélémy, José María Martin, Ginebra: Droz, 2003, 545-562. Hay un cierto debate sobre la relevancia “cruzada” de la campaña. Analiza esta expedición y su interpretación Laliena, Carlos. “Guerra santa y conquista feudal en el Noroeste de la Península a mediados del siglo XI: Barbastro, 1064”, La guerra, la frontera y la convivencia. XI Congreso de estudios medievales. León: Fundación Sánchez Albornoz, 2009: 189-218. Un útil recorrido por la historiografía cruzada en Ayala, Carlos de. “Definición de cruzada: estado de la cuestión”.Clio & Crimen, 6 (2009): 216-242. 4. “Epistola 82” (Epistolae pontificum Romanorum, ed. Samuel Loewenfeld. Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 43). Podemos relacionar esta carta con la que el papa dirige a un colectivo episcopal, quizá más el galo que el hispano, advirtiendo frente al comporta- miento antijudío de aquéllos qui contra Sarracenos in Hispaniam proficiscebantur (“Epistola”, 101, Patrologia Cursus completus. París: J. P. Migne, 1884, CXLVI, col. 1386-87; Jaffé, Regesta pontificum Romanorum, ed. Philipp Jaffé, Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 3485). Ésta, a su vez, cabe ponerla en relación con la que dirige a Wifredo de Narbona sobre lo que parece el mismo tema (“Epistolae...” 83, ed. Loewenfeld, “Epistolae...”: 43). 5. Chronica Sancti Maxentii Pictavensis, 1062 (Chroniques des Églises d’Anjou, eds. Paul Marchegay, Émile Mabille. París: Mme. Ve J. Renouard, 1869: 403. El texto fue concluido en 1141, aunque buena parte de la obra pudo haberse completado ya en 1126 (Halphen, Louis. “Note sur la Chronique de Saint Maixent”. Bibliothèque de l’École des chartes, 69 (1908): 410-411).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 441 Es verdad que, ya poco antes de estos años, encontramos alguna escritura aragonesa que parece

nglish indicar un cierto movimiento. En 1057 un documento se refiere a los cristianos y a las conquistas que

E han sufrido a manos de los musulmanes, posiblemente en un momento en que ya se han iniciado in algunas hostilidades que provocaron la entrega del Pueyo de Bolea6. Todas estas dinámicas pudieron tener antecedentes en el decenio anterior y, afectando al reino navarro, desarrollos que se iniciarían en el contexto de la batalla de Tafalla7 y que coinciden con una actividad guerrera que tiene otro ubmitted ejemplo en la conquista de Calahorra. No es éste el lenguaje tradicional peninsular para referirse a las S actividades guerreras contra los andalusíes. n o t Cabe pensar que algunas de estas influencias procedieron del exterior, tanto a partir de la presen- cia de eclesiásticos como, también, de laicos8, incluyendo a las reinas que se unieron en matrimonio exts 9 T a los reyes aragoneses de aquellos años y sus previsibles entornos . Monasterios e iglesias ultrapire-

the naicos tuvieron algún protagonismo en este reino aragonés. Tal es el caso de Thomières, en donde el

o f rey Sancho hizo ingresar al infante Ramiro en 1093, o La Sauve-Majeure que tenía Arguilaré desde

106310. Por otro lado, centros eclesiásticos y algunos castillos del reino habían sido donados a institu- ciones religiosas norteñas. También tenemos constancia de la presencia de eclesiásticos de ultrapiri-

riginals neos en diversos momentos. Éstos dejan huella de esa comparecencia en alguna carta de fundación, O como en la dedicación de la iglesia de San Juan de la Peña en 109411. Los viajes, especialmente los regios, pudieron estrechar vínculos con diversas áreas europeas: García el de Nájera, quizá en 1035, y, posiblemente, Sancho Ramírez visitaron Roma, lo testimonia el Pseudo-Silense y un documento del rey aragonés fechado en 106812; a ellos correspondieron viajes de legados papales; también el infante

6. Un documento de 1057 se refiere al dominio de los reyeschristiani o el de los pagani y se remite al rey Sancho III para describir cómo nos christiani un castillo de manibus sarraçenorum... ad christianis eum reddimus (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón (1035-1064). Zaragoza: Diputación Provincial de Zaragoza, 2013: 483-484 (doc. no 120); Ubieto, Antonio. Cartulario de San Juan de la Peña. Valencia: Gráficas Bautista, 1963: II: 163-166 (doc. on 144). La concesión a Sancho de Puibolea de 1058 en Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática...: 490-491 (doc. no 126). 7. Laliena, Carlos; Sénac, Philippe. Musulmans et chrétiens dans le Haut Moyen Âge: aux origines de la reconquête aragonaise. Pa- rís: Minerve, 1991: 121. También, Laliena, Carlos. La formación del Estado feudal. Aragón y Navarra en la época de Pedro I. Huesca: Diputación Provincial de Huesca, 1996: 61. 8. Podemos recordar, por citar dos ejemplos diversos, a Andrés de Francia (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez. Zaragoza: Real Sociedad Económica Aragonesa de Amigos del País, 1993: 69-70 (doc. no 60); 88-89 (doc. no 85) o a Rembald de Montepestler, que tenía, al menos, una tienda en Jaca (Salarrullana, José. Documentos correspondientes al reinado de Sancio Ramireç. Zaragoza: Tipografía Escar, 1907: 175-177 (doc. no 45). 9. Felicia de Roucy, esposa del rey Sancho Ramírez (sobre ella, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra. Zaragoza: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1951: 27 y siguientes); además, las de Pedro: Inés de Aquitania y, aunque de incierto origen extrahispano, Berta. 10. A. 1093, Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 148-149 (doc. no 144). En 1084 Sancho Ramírez había donado a Santa María de Sauve-Majeure las mezquitas de Ejea (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 80 (doc. no 73) y en 1088 confirmaba sus donaciones al abad Grimaldo Colección( diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 105 (doc. no 105). En 1088 el abad de Sauve-Majeure se compometía a acoger anualmente a un pauper y realizar oraciones por el rey aragonés (Martene, Edmond. Thesaurus novus. París: Sumptibus F. Delaulne, 1717: col. 247). El documento de Arguilaré en Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón: 563-565 (doc. no 184). 11. En donde aparecen los obispos Amato de Burdeos y Godofredo de Magalona y los abades Frotardo de Thomières, Ai- merico o Raimundo de San Salvador de Leger (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra: 227-228 (doc. no 16). Podemos con cierta prudencia contar también con el elevado número de nombres no hispanos que figuran en las escrituras. 12. A mediados de febrero de 1068 Sancho sostiene que iba de camino a Roma (pergebam ad Romam), aunque no sabemos si culminó su viaje (Libro de los Santos Voto y Félix, Biblioteca Universitaria de Zaragoza, M-420, f. 11v; lo publicó Salarrullana, José. Documentos correspondientes al reinado de Sancio Ramireç: 7-8 (doc. no 3). Sobre el viaje y sus resultados ha hecho escuela la opinión de Kehr, Paul. ”El Papado y los reinos de Navarra y Aragón hasta mediados del siglo XII”, Estudios de Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón. Zaragoza: E. Berdejo Casanal, 1946: II, 94 y siguientes.

442 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 Sancho parece haber peregrinado a Jerusalem en 109213. A su vuelta, ellos y sus entornos pudieron 14 incorporar perspectivas que habían asimilado lejos de su tierra de origen . n gl is h

Lo que quiero señalar es el mayor desarrollo de estas percepciones que destacan cómo en el rei- E in no aragonés el conflicto con los andalusíes acude antes a subrayar la oposición religiosa, de modo que cabe encontrar formulaciones afinadas relativamente pronto, unas elaboraciones que en pocas décadas adquieren notables precisiones y riqueza. Una escritura de San Víctor de Marsella, en la que se recoge la donación realizada por el obispo Poncio de Barbastro en 1101, muestra el auge de este ubm i tted S desarrollo, explicando el prelado que su sede había sido recientemente conquistada de la potestad y no t mano de los paganos. En realidad, dice que ha sido liberata, gracias a la espada del rey Pedro I. La carta es confirmada por el arzobispo de Arlés y, presumiblemente, en el momento de la concesión estaría e x t s 15 presente algún monje de San Víctor de Marsella, monasterio que recibió la donación . El documento T

pone en relación diversos elementos, la guerra contra los musulmanes, la pretensión de liberar ciu- the

dades e iglesias y, además, testimonia el peso de los nexos ultrapirenaicos, resaltando la importancia o f de los mismos en la expresión de la ideología cruzada. Nuestra impresión es que buena parte de estos argumentos estaban en alza en el reino desde mediados de siglo XI.

En cualquier caso, desde mediados del XI, hay documentación que se refiere a lospagani y textos r i g in al s en los que se destaca la oposición religiosa16. En el documento ya referido de 1057 y en otros poste- O riores, se señala un período de dominación de estos pagani sobre los cristianos. Laliena ha señalado el desarrollo de un sentimiento antimusulmán en García Sánchez, enraizado en él a partir su visita a Roma de 103517. Este ánimo se haría quizá visible en la cláusula de dote de su esposa, datada en 1040, pues se refiere a posibles concesiones divinas en tierras poseídas por los musulmanes18, siendo ya una explícita primera muestra la empresa que culmina en batalla en Tafalla, muy probablemente en 104319. Poco más tarde se produciría la conquista de Calahorra (1045), que habría sido recuperada por la acción regia de las manos de los pagani20. Lo novedoso no es esa actividad bélica, que podemos

13. En 1092 el comes Sancho, hermanastro del monarca, refiere este deseo:ego uolente pergere in uiam sepulchri Domini... (Bi- blioteca Universitaria de Zaragoza. Libro de los privilegios. M-423/517, f. 1r). 14. Un documento de San Juan de la Peña menciona al rey Pedro tomando la cruz para ir a Jerusalem (lo transcribe Ubieto, Antonio. Colección diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra: 113 (doc. no 6). Íñigo López y su mujer habían donado en 1061 propiedades el abad de San Juan de la Peña porque deseaban ir a Roma, ut iremus Romam (Ubieto, Antonio. Cartulario de san Juan de la Peña...: II, 197-198 (doc. no 158). 15. Ubieto, Antonio. Colecciónd diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 115 (doc. no 9). 16. En el uso del término paganus referido a los musulmanes hay que recordar el precedente de la carta de Oliba de Vic a Sancho el Mayor, donde también figura la idea dedeletio de esos enemigos y la de restitutio (Diplomatari i escrits literaris de l’abat i bisbe Oliba, ed. Emili Junyent. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 1992: 327-331, doc. no 16, y también siguientes). No es excepcional el empleo de pagani o de terra paganorum para referirse a los andalusíes o al-Andalus. 17. Laliena, Carlos. La formación del Estado feudal...: 60 y siguientes. 18. de partibus terre hismaeitarum aut castra aut villas (Rodríguez, Idelfonso. Colección diplomática medieval de La Rioja (923-1225). Logroño: Diputación Provincial de la Rioja, 1976: II, 24-26 (doc. no 3). 19. El conocido documento de agosto de 1043 se refiere a un caballo que había sido de Ramiro I y perdido en la arran- cada de Tafalla. Creo que éste es el sentido del don que recibe el rey García Sánchez de Sancho Fortuñones (Martín Du- que, Ángel. Documentación medieval de Leire (siglos XI a XII). Pamplona: Diputación Foral de Navarra, 1983: 64-65 (doc. no 33). Ver al respecto, Martín Duque, Ángel. “Don García Sánchez III ‘el de Nájera’: Biografía de un reinado”, García Sán- chez III “el de Nájera” un rey y un reino en la Europa del siglo XI: XV semana de estudios medievales. Nájera: Instituto de Estu- dios Riojanos, 2005: 30. Ubieto propone una fecha muy temprana, hacia 1038, tanto que hace más improbable el regalo de un caballo (Ubieto, Antonio. Los orígenes de los reinos de Castilla y Aragón. Zaragoza: Universidad de Zaragoza, 1991: 48 y siguientes). Ver además, Pérez de Ciriza, Fortún. “Monjes y obispos: La Iglesia en el reinado de García Sánchez III el de Nájera”, XV Semana de Estudios Medievales. Nájera: Instituto de Estudios Riojanos, 2005: 197-200 (doc. no 159). 20. García Sánchez III dice en esta escritura (un pseudo-original) haberla tomado de manibus paganorum y haberla “resti- tuido” iuri christianorum (Rodríguez de Lama, Idelfonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja: 30-32 (doc. no 6). El docu-

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 443 apuntar en otros momentos del pasado, sino el modo de justificación de la misma en las coordena-

nglish das de la guerra religiosa. Tampoco es que estos desarrollos sean inaugurales, pero sí revelan formas

E cada vez más cerradas de expresar la relación entre la acción violenta de los cristianos y la condición in religiosa de los musulmanes y la percepción que se tiene de la misma. No se trata tampoco de que pensemos que deban ser etiquetadas como cruzadas esas campañas aragonesas, un asunto que es quizá secundario en relación a lo que más nos interesa, el lento desarrollo de un discurso que explica, ubmitted justifica y promueve esa actividad bélica. Un discurso que no surge en el vacío, sino que ha de buscar S su espacio en unas sociedades acostumbradas a las acciones bélicas con los andalusíes y que va absor- n o t biendo con ritmos propios propuestas diversas. Esta presencia musulmana en la Península era explicada siguiendo pautas del providencialismo exts

T cristiano y con las secuencias de pecado, castigo y perdón. En algún documento aragonés se explicita

the la lectura regia u oficial de lo sucedido. Son los pecados de los reyes quienes han traído la invasión y

21 o f la desarticulación de un entramado que se ha de considerar originariamente bueno .

En el reino leonés no encontramos textos tempranos con esta argumentación, que, sin embargo, abunda en los falsos, en los que podemos constatar, por dar unos ejemplos, las referencias a la Sarrace- 22 23 riginals norum persecutio y a la situación de dominio in manibus impiorum o, incluso, a la situación de iglesias O y sedes destructae a paganis24. Estas reconstrucciones revelan cómo fue incorporado a medio plazo este discurso y cómo no fue considerado contradictorio con el anterior. De hecho, que el discurso era intemporal y que era apropiado en cualquier cronología. Lo que cabía hacer, frente a los efectos de la invasión musulmana, era una obra de restauración. Ésta se entendía de diversos modos, pero con el verbo restaurare se recalcaba la significación primera de tipo constructivo25. Además, existía una versión más antropológica y cristiana, en el sentido de que restaurar suponía recuperar la prístina condición humana previa al pecado, merced al sacrificio de Cristo26.

mento puede estar interpolado (Pérez de Ciriza, Fortún. “Monjes y obispos...”: 231, nº 20), aunque no claramente en esta parte: Rodríguez de Lama, Idelfonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 33-34 (doc. no 7) —quizá una escritura más reelaborada— lo formula de modo parcialmente diferente, recargando las tintas: pagana impietate uiolentiaque, aliquatenus repressa, recuperare aliquatenus iam cepimus atque possidere... 21. En 1063 Ramiro I señalaba que instigante diabolo atque peccata parentum antiquorum [no dice los suyos estrictamente] inuase sunt atque subuerse uniuersa cenobia nec non et ecclesie a Dei incultoribus. Ob quam rem Deo auxiliante illarum restaurationem uoluntarie cupientes agi... (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón...: 563-564 (doc. no 184). Obviamente son los registros surgidos bajo el modelo de los reyes bíblicos, cuyos pecados alcanzaban al conjunto del pueblo. 22. Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada. Madrid: Antonio Marín, 1764: XVIII ap. IV y V, supuestamente un documento de Alfonso III del año 867 en el que se refiere la fundación de Mondoñedo. 23. Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada, Madrid, Antonio Marín, 1765: XIX, 350. 24. Supuesta donación de Alfonso II a Lugo del 832 (Risco, Manuel. España Sagrada, XL, Madrid, Marín, 1796: XL, 371); un documento datado en 904 se refiere a una iglesiadisrupta a paganis (Sáez, Emilio. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, I (775-952). León: Centro de estudios “San Isidoro”, 1987: 28-29 (doc. no 17). 25. Conservamos frases del tipo domus ecclesiae restaurare que aparecen en documentos de Cardeña de mediados del siglo X. La actividad es obligación del rey cristiano como señala el pseudo-Silense, quien indica que el rey Pelayo, tras su victoriosa revuelta contra los musulmanes, tuvo la voluntad de restaurare las iglesias y sus ornamenta, en una idea que pasa por la re- facción física de las mismas (Pérez de Urbel, Justo; Ruiz, Atilano. Historia Silense. Madrid: Centro Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1959: 25, 136). 26. Este concepto podía aplicarse con un contenido legal, en el sentido de recuperar una primigenia libertad, tras haber vivido en esclavitud. Así lo constatamos en un documento de Sobrado del 930 (Loscertales, Pilar. Tumbos del monasterio de Sobrado de los Monjes. Madrid: Dirección General del Patrimonio Artístico y Cultural-Archivo Histórico Nacional, 1976: I, 86-87 (doc. no 52) o en otro, que pretende ser del 912, en el que se opone la condición libre restaurada, frente a la ante- rior, servil (Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A de la catedral de Santiago de Compostela. León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1997: 100-102 (doc. no 24). Sobre las modificaciones de éste y otros términos de similar cariz,

444 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 La urgencia de restaurar y el sentido del término se fueron modificando con el tiempo, muy es-

pecialmente en la cronología que nos ocupa. En 1035, cuando Vermudo III dota la sede de Palencia, n gl is h explicita su deseo de restaurare la sede y le concede una capacidad económica para que el obispo y E in todo el ordo clericorum rueguen a Dios por él27. No se desarrolla ninguna otra acepción, como tam- poco la encontramos en la confirmación de fueros de Fernando y Sancha del 104228. En el reinado de Fernando se advierte cómo por restaurar se implica el establecimiento de la situación de época visigoda, en el sentido de que restaurar sedes exige la recuperación del pasado, del viejo esquema de ubm i tted S episcopados visigóticos29. La restauración era entendida desde las perspectivas goticistas, en la idea del no t retorno del reino a un pasado mejor. No se olvidaba la percepción general de dotar en todos los senti- dos y, así, el obispo Pelayo pensaba en 1074 que restaurar su sede exigía su dotación con el apropiado e x t s 30 equipamiento litúrgico, con vestiduras y libros . T

Durante décadas la idea de restauración seguirá evolucionando y, aunque en el reino leonés el tér- the

mino mantendrá la referencia a los edificios y su recursos, se desarrollará la acepción de vinculación o f con un pasado mitologizado y, algo más tarde, irá incorporando nuevos elementos, como cuando en 1089 Alfonso VI promociona la sede de Santa María de Toledo y menciona cómo ha sido restaurata 31 en la fe . El proceso, por tanto, parece haber definido un concepto de restauración acorde con los r i g in al s nuevos tiempos, pues se recalca la idea de conflicto religioso y la traslación de espacios de culto islá- O mico a iglesias cristianas. En el reino aragonés documentos de la segunda mitad del siglo XI ponen de manifiesto el desa- rrollo de la idea de restauratio de unos centros eclesiásticos que han sido destruidos a Dei incultoribus. En 1063 la restauración tiene, por supuesto, todo el sentido constructivo y reparador de derechos, pero también se vincula estrechamente con la actividad de estos infieles que han quebrado una tra- yectoria. La fundación que promueve Ramiro I en Arguilaré no parece la recuperación de un centro, sino la restauración cristiana de un territorio. En 1101 Pedro I recordará la tarea de sus antecesores in restaurandis, refiriéndose al establecimiento de sedes episcopales y otros centros religiosos con ex- presa mención de la previa conquista musulmana, cuyo resultado habría sido la casi destrucción de la Christianitas32. En las escrituras de esta procedencia se emplea, además, otro término interesante. En los primeros años del siglo XII es relativamente frecuente entender el proceso de apropiación de los nuevos territorios como una restitución, es decir, como un acto de justicia por el que un bien retorna a su verdadero dueño. En 1102, al referirse a la toma de Barbastro, se destacaba lo que tenía de pro-

ver: Constable, Giles. “Renewal and Reform in Religious Life. Concepts and Realities”, Renaissance and Renewal in the Twelfth Century. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1982, 37-67. 27. Núñez Contreras, “Colección diplomática de Vermudo III, rey de León”. Historia, instituciones, documentos, 4 (1977): 484- 487 (doc. no 18). 28. Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I (1037-1065)”. Archivos Leoneses, 40 (1986): 73-74 (doc. no 16). Otra cosa figura en los documentos de restauración de Oca de 1075, pero son, por lo menos, problemáticos. 29. Año 1046; Cavero Gregoria; Martín, Encarnación. Colección documental de la catedral de Astorga, I (646-1126). León: Centro de Estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1999: 256-259 (doc. no 306). 30. Ruiz Asencio, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109). León: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1990: 450-452 (doc. no 1193). Se han tratado estas cuestiones en Isla, Amancio. Memoria, culto y monarquia hispánica entre los siglos X y XII. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén, 2007: 104 y siguientes. 31. Año 1089; Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio. II Colección diplomática. León: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1998: 264-266 (doc. no 101). 32. Los centros eclesiásticos... peccata parentum antiquorum inuase sunt atque subuerse (Viruete, Roberto. La colección diplomática del reinado de Ramiro I de Aragón: 563-565 (doc. no 184); christianitatem in Ispania magna ex parte deleta... ad pristinum statum suam sanctam ecclesiam reintegravit (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 345-347 (doc. no 96).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 445 ceso de restituir estas ciudades a la cristiandad33. Al considerar la conquista de Calasanz, se ponían de

nglish relieve las mismas coordenadas presentes en otras ocasiones, que vienen a confirmar que la conquista

E se liga a un legítimo cambio de religión, por lo que es frecuente que estos términos se hagan más pre- in sentes en el contexto de documentos relativos a dedicaciones eclesiásticas34. En cambio, este concepto no aparece en los territorios occidentales. En la bula de Urbano II de 1088, en cambio, sí que consta la idea de restitución del arzobispado de Toledo, en el sentido de restaurar o recuperar una situación ubmitted previa que se había perdido. En la redacción se señalan los ejes de la compresión papal: situación S previa idealizada, obviamente cristiana, unos pecados que desencadenan la conquista sarracena y una n o t restitución contemporánea que implica una conquista y un retorno a la situación primitiva. Todo el conjunto se entiende como restitutio y también como liberatio35. exts

T Resulta interesante comparar el discurso que se elabora en los territorios occidentales con el

the navarro-aragonés. La percepción que obtenemos desde las fuentes leonesas tiene otros matices.

o f No es que no sean conscientes del fenómeno de la presencia musulmana y sus efectos, es que

su interpretación destaca más otras consideraciones, básicamente la necesidad de recuperar el estadio previo a la conquista. Éstas se manifiestan al hablar de los musulmanes, pero también

riginals de otros grupos invasores, por ejemplo los paganos normandos. Cuando en 1024 se procede a la O restauración de Tui, la carta del rey Alfonso V menciona lo que entendían que era la situación perfecta: Antiquorum etenim relatione cognoscimus, omnem Hispaniam a Christianis esse possessam, et unamquamque provinciam ecclesiis, sedibus et episcopis perornatam. Son los pecados los que quiebran esa situación y provocan la llegada de los normandos y sus demoledores efectos en la sede. Luego se produjo una violenta reacción cristiana y fueron expulsados36. Sin embargo, a pesar de la su- brayada oposición entre los cristianos y quienes no lo son, los normandos, y la explícita referencia a la violencia, no se conjugan estos elementos suficientemente, aunque es obvio que se trata de una guerra que se presenta con carácter religioso. Fernando I y Sancha sostienen en una donación leonesa que es mejor restaurar que edificar. Lo que quieren subrayar es que, más que elevar nuevas iglesias, conviene recuperar patrimo- nios, templos y jerarquías eclesiásticas: éste el sentido propio de la restauratio aún a mediados de siglo37. La preocupación que manifiestan los redactores de esta documentación es proceder a la restauración, un proceso que se entiende en este sentido de retorno al pasado, lo que implica una estructura eclesiástica adecuada en todos los sentidos. Así, cuando en 1046 se alaba el reinado del difunto Alfonso V, se insiste en su actividad guerrera contra los musulmanes, desde luego

33. ut ipse Deus per meritum ipsius, urbes ipsas sancte restituet christianitati (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 374-378 (doc. no 117). 34. [El castrum de Calasanz] restitutum est sancte christianitati, dedicavit ibi ecclesiam (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pe- dro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 301-301 (doc. no 128). Los castelli que Dios dignatus est restituere suo sancto nomine et sue christianitati in terra de Osca (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra...: 396-397 (doc. no 132)). 35. a saracenis­ eadem civitas capta et ad nihilum christianae religionis illic libertas redacta est,... christianorum iuribus Toletana civitas est restituta (Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia hasta Inocencio III (965-1216). Roma: Instituto Español de Estudios Eclesiásticos, 1955: 43 y siguientes (“Epistola” 27); ... quod de sarracenorum­ iure Toletana est ecclesia liberata (Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia...: 39 y siguientes (“Epistola” 24)). 36. multas quidem ipsorum inimicorum cervices fregimus, et de terra nostra ejecimus... (Flórez, Enrique. España Sagrada. Madrid: Antonio Marín, 1765: XIX, 391). El documento explica que, por su estado de postración, la sede tudense fue integrada en Santiago. El texto Antiquorum relatione reaparece en un falso datado en el 915 (España Sagrada, XIX: 349). Parece proceder del prefacio del De uiris illustribus de Ildefonso (Gil, Juan. “Notas críticas a autores medievales hispanos”. Habis, 14 (1983): 70). 37. intelleximus quia melius est qui restaurat quam qui hedificat (7 de Enero de 1043); Ruiz Asencio, José Manuel. Colección docu- mental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109)...: IV, 170-172 (doc. no 1007)).

446 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 muy explícitamente, y en la ampliación y dotación de iglesias38. La restauración es, para quien 39 gobernó después, el rehacer las iglesias en su patrimonio y el designar obispos . Es notable que n gl is h esta apreciación incluya enfrentarse con los efectos de otras invasiones, no precisamente de los E in musulmanes. Los reyes, al otorgar al monasterio de Sahagún un scriptum restauracionis, se refieren a la acción de reparar o de volver a su prístino estado la situación del monasterio previa a las de- predaciones de los aristócratas del reino40. De hecho, la situación política del reino leonés lleva a cargar las tintas sobre este último aspec- ubm i tted S to. En diversos momentos hemos insistido en este modo de presentar el pasado cercano, en donde no t la veritas queda en entredicho ante la rapiña aristocrática que aprovecha minorías y debilidades monárquicas. A la altura de mediados de siglo, la percepción leonesa, al referirse a la situación e x t s de dificultades, señalaba a las que tuvieron lugar durante la minoría de Alfonso V y a las suce- T

didas después, de manera que el tempus persecutionis no es tanto la opresión musulmana, cuanto the

las guerras civiles y el desorden que propició notables dificultades, sobre todo para el patrimonio o f eclesiástico41. En 1074 el rey Sancho de Aragón se refería a su demanda de oraciones para la estabilidad del 42 reino y para conseguir de Dios victorias contra inimicos nominis Christiani . El monarca no deja de r i g in al s ser consciente de los beneficia recibidos, obviamente no sólo espirituales, también materiales. Las O victorias aragonesas suponían una ampliación del reino43. A menudo se refieren las pretensiones regias a que en el futuro o ya en el presente Dios le haya ayudado en esa tarea de hacer crecer el reino. No es infrecuente que desde el entorno regio se apunte la esperanza de que la divini- dad otorgue la conquista de un nuevo enclave o bien se refieran a esta decisión celeste una vez producida la conquista44. No obstante, en algún caso se explicita como una concesión divina ad christianos45. Como ya hemos señalado, estas ocupaciones se entendían como restitución religiosa y en las escrituras queda reflejada esa oposición. En este mismo orden de cosas, hay una insistencia en la conversión de las mezquitas en iglesias. Obviamente hay un componente económico en esa dinámica, puesto que, entre los bienes concedidos por los reyes, previos incluso a la conquista efectiva, se encuentran innominadas

38. gentem muzleimitarum detruncauit et ecclesias ampliauit et valde de omnibus bonis suis ditauit (28 de junio de 1046, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 104-107 (doc. no 31). 39. fecimus hordinare per illas sedes episcopos ad restaurandum eclesias et recreandum fidei christianae (28 de junio de 1046). Ver Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 104-107 (doc. no 31). También, et fecimus... per illas sedes ordinare episcopos... (7 de enero de 1043); Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109)...: IV, 170-172 (doc. no 1007)). 40. Noviembre 1049, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 123-124 (doc. no 40). 41. 7 enero 1043; Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109)...: IV, 170-172 (doc. no 1007). Sobre los conflictos con la aristocracia, Isla, Amancio.Realezas hispánicas del año mil. Sada: Edicios do Castro, 1998: 62 y siguientes y 103 siguientes. 42. Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez...: 44-45 (doc. no 30). 43. Sancho entiende que habrá un momento en su reinado o en el de sus sucesores logren sus objetivos, quando Deus am- pliauerit eis regnum (Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 148-149 (doc. no 144) del año 1093). 44. die quod Deus omnipotens donavit nobis Monteson (fechable en 1090, Colección Diplomática de Pedro I de Aragón y Navarra: 219-220 (doc. no 9) o, muy explícito en su acción de gracias, regnante... gratias Deo altissimo in Monteson (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección diplomática de Pedro I...: 220-221 (doc. no 10) enero de 1092). 45. Una carta se redacta en mayo de 1081 in Castro Muniones quando Deus dedit illum ad christianos (Lacarra, José Maria. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista y repoblación del valle del Ebro. Zaragoza: Anubar, 1982: 13-14 (doc. no 4); también Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 64-65 (doc. no 55). En 1089 el rey aragonés espera la ayuda divina para que Estadilla pase in manus christianorum (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 216-217 doc. no 6).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 447 mezquitas con una escala de categorías, relacionadas con su dotación económica, destinadas para

nglish construir iglesias por la institución eclesiástica a la que han sido conferidas, en la idea de que estas

E mezquitas llevan aparejados diversos bienes más allá del propio lugar de oración, incluyendo in fincas generadoras de rentas, casas e, incluso, hornos. Cuando Sancho Ramírez procede a donar a La Sauve-Majeure, ya se explicita el deseo de que se produzca una próxima conquista quando Deus... dederit ipsas villas sanctae christianitati, destacando entre los objetivos la conversión de las ubmitted mezquitas en iglesias46. S Esta conquista se entiende como liberación. No les interesaba tanto la existencia de una n o t población sometida, sino que los derechos que subrayan son los de Dios y los santos o, incluso, más concretamente, los de sus templos. Lo que justifica la acción cristiana es la liberación de exts

T iglesias y tierras. La restitución y restauración de la Christianitas es la de las iglesias y, en función de

the ese giro, las mezquitas deben ser sustituidas por templos cristianos. Se entendía de modo normal

47 o f que, en el lugar donde se levantaba una mezquita, debería erigirse una iglesia . Nos consta

que había cierta demanda de las mezquitas de las ciudades conquistadas, provocando alguna tensión entre las instituciones religiosas, como la que se produce por la mezquita de Huesca para 48 riginals establecer allí la sede episcopal o bien otra iglesia . El obispo quería tener miskidam pro sedem, y la O obtuvo imponiendo un criterio que quizá pareció muy firme. La condición de la mezquita mayor oscense, la excellentior, es enormemente alabada para ser sede de la catedral, mas Pedro concederá en diferentes oportunidades otras mezquitas para la edificación de iglesias como la que cede a Leire para que se erija la iglesia de San Salvador49 o la que promete a Conques en Barbastro, ad construendum ibi monasterium50. El añadido que, escrito por el obispo Pedro de Zaragoza, precede a la carta de Gelasio II y que se dirige a quienes sitian Zaragoza en 1118, recoge muchos de estos elementos. Se indica que la empresa descansa en la clemencia divina, las oraciones de los eclesiásticos y la audacia de los for- tes viri, es decir, los aristócratas. Que su objetivo es la conquista de Zaragoza para los cristianos y liberar la iglesia de Santa María que se halla sometida a los perfidi sarraceni51. Esta dinámica debe relacionarse con una memoria que destaca cómo los musulmanes se apro- piaron de las iglesias cristianas52. La conquista musulmana se entiende como un suceso, rela- tivamente rápido en el tiempo, cuyo principal efecto consistió en la eliminación de obispados, la destrucción de monasterios y la profanación de las iglesias. En un momento tan temprano

46. [1091] Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 23-24 (doc. no 12). 47. El rey Sancho Ramírez concede a Sauve-Majeure en Ejea y Pradilla utriusque ville mischitas ad ecclesias ibi faciendas ([1091], Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 23-24 (doc. no 12). Al final del período que revisamos, cuando se conquista Zaragoza no deja de señalarse que las mezquitas serán convertidas en iglesias (Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 70-71 (doc. no 56). 48. Diciembre 1096 y 5-IV-1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 241-243, (doc. no 24) y 251-253 (doc. no 30). Los de Montearagón quedaron con la capellanía de la Zuda y Thomières con illam ecclesiam antiquam sancti Petri (doc. no 24). 49. [Noviembre]1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 266-268, doc. no 40. 50. [Abril 1099], Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 302, doc. no 64. 51. 10 diciembre 1118, Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 67-69 (doc. no 54). La carta de Gela- sio incide en aspectos de la cruzada en los que no vamos a entrar de momento (Jaffé, Philipp. Regesta pontificum Romanorum. Leipzig: Veit, 1885: 665; ver Kehr, Paul. “El Papado y los reinos de Navarra y Aragón hasta mediados del siglo XII”, Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón. Zaragoza: E. Berdejo Casanal, 1946: II, 147 y siguientes. 52. atque ubi Dominici corporis et sanguinis celebrata fuerit sacramenta, nefanda demonum spurcissimique Mahomat colabantur figmenta (5 Abril 1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 251-253, doc. no 30).

448 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 como 1044, García, el de Nájera, revelaba en qué medida su acción ofensiva tenía que ver con la

comprensión del pasado. Él sabía que existía un estado de desolación de los lugares sagrados cris- n gl is h tianos, una situación que entendía como histórica, resultado de las acciones violentas a barbaris E in nationibus53. Se había producido una occupatio y, aún más, una destructio de esos templos cristia- nos. Lo que sus campañas consiguen es la restitutio o recuperatio de esos centros eclesiásticos al ius christianorum54. Es interesante que en estos diplomas se explica que fueron los antepasados del rey García ubm i tted S quienes por sus pecados perdieron el reino. Por tanto, es perceptible el sentimiento entre la mo- no t narquía navarra de su procedencia de la realeza visigoda. No es, pues, una invención del Pseudo- Silense, sino una afirmación establecida con anterioridad55, al menos en estas tierras y quizá e x t s reforzada por los ideólogos de época de Sancho el Mayor. Obviamente, ese cambio tiene que ver T

con la misericordia divina, finalmente apiadada de las penalidades cristianas. Esa tarea exige, casi the

por definición, una benevolencia divina. Dicho de otra manera, llevarla a cabo implica culminar o f un designio de Dios. Así se justifica la acción de los reyes navarros y aragoneses, que asumen la condición de cris-

tianos, en sus campañas militares. Es relevante que también estas acciones se entiendan como un r i g in al s don de Dios. La fraseología de la época insiste en que Dios dio tal o cual enclave al monarca. Cier- O tamente es una afirmación que suele emplearse para destacar el día en el que se produjo el su- ceso, pero también la esperanza de que tal acontecimiento ocurra. La referencia no sólo debe ser entendida en su significado de otorgar la victoria y la conquista, es decir, como cumplimentación de la voluntad divina; también hay un contenido patrimonial no desdeñable, o sea, esa victoria otorgada lleva aparejada una donación patrimonial56. Dios ha entregado la tierra conquistada al monarca y, quizá por ello, Pedro I puede afirmar que entrega a San Ponce de Thomières bienesex alodibus meis propriis, estando entre ellos la iglesia de San Pedro de Huesca57. Es verdad que, como ya hemos señalado, en algún caso no deja de valorarse que lo conquistado ha sido entregado por la misericordia divina a los cristianos, pero eso no contradice lo anterior y el rey Pedro señalaba que Dios había entregado Alquézar christiane religioni et michi58. Era Dios quien daba en plena pro- piedad esos bienes al monarca. Se mencionan, así, las diversas liberaciones de iglesias realizadas por la espada o las que están en proyecto59. Estas tierras y templos están en manos de quienes son descritos como pagani, es- tableciéndose la dicotomía entre estar en esa potestad o in manus christianorum60. Se trata de con- tingentes en conflicto y los redactores son conscientes de las muertes que suponen estas acciones

53. Rodríguez de Lama, Ildefonso. Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 27-29, (doc. no 4), datado el 2 de noviem- bre de 1044. 54. 30 abril 1045, Rodríguez de Lama, Ildefonso, Colección Diplomática Medieval de la Rioja...: 30-32 (doc. no 6). 55. Recuérdese la manifestación del Vigilano (Isla, Amancio. Realezas Hispánicas...: 122). 56. Deus omnipotens donavit nobis Monteson... (Ca 1090). Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 219-220 (doc. no 9); quando Deus omnipotens donavit nobis eum [Barbastro]; (Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 301 (doc. no 63). Otra similar en 306 (doc. no 8), que procede del Tumbo A de Santiago. 57. 9 mayo 1097, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 256-258, (doc. no 34). 58. Noviembre 1099, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 311-313 (doc. no 72). 59. Así en 1081 el obispo Dalmacio de Roda señala el momento quandocumque... plebs christiana poterit eam [la iglesia de Naval] ab ismahelitarum oppressione liberare et obtinere. (Durán, Antonio. Colección diplomática de la Catedral de Huesca. Zaragoza: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1965: 59-60 (doc. on 43). 60. Anno 1089, Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 216-217 (doc. no 6).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 449 liberatorias. En 1096 el rey Pedro se refería a la multitud de gente muerta, tanto de paganos como 61 nglish de cristianos, en el contexto de la conquista de Huesca .

E Lo que se pretende es una actuación militar destinada ad destruccionem sarracenorum et dilatacio- in nem christianorum, pero no dejan de ser conscientes de las elevadas bajas62. En esas expediciones los muertos eran contemplados bajo la luz de haber dado la vida por el rey, pero también en el servicio de Dios63, mientras que, los cristianos que combaten al lado de los musulmanes contra otros de su ubmitted misma fe, son falsi christiani. Los participantes en esas empresas militares reciben un reconocimiento S especial, pues ponen o ya han puesto sus personas en riesgo por la fe y al servicio de la cristiandad, n o t una actuación que va más allá de la mera acción de conquista64. El concepto no se ha desarrollado plenamente, pero es evidente que ya se encuentra ahí. exts

T La idea de liberación que implica esta conquista es también un nuevo concepto. Se trata de una

the noción que se incorpora en la tradición hispana y que vemos en la fraseología papal. Con notable

o f desarrollo, Urbano, a finales de 1088, hace uso del mismo para referirse a las consecuencias de la

conquista cristiana. Al hablar de la conquista de Toledo, el papa refiere cómo supuso la liberación de su iglesia de iure Sarracenorum. Si la conquista musulmana había traído la destrucción eclesiástica y la

riginals pérdida de la libertas, ahora tenía lugar la liberación por la que era devuelta, restituta, a quien la había O perdido, un retorno, tal y como lo hemos descrito, a la condición primigenia65. Es interesante que, si este vocabulario no está presente en los territorios occidentales, lo hallamos ya en 1069 en el entorno aragonés, cuando Sancho Ramírez lo emplea para describir la conquista de Alquézar y los esfuerzos realizados por sus conquistadores66. Esta terminología no aparece de manera consistente en las tierras occidentales peninsulares. No es que no exista un contenido religioso de la guerra peninsular, como se advierte en las fuentes cronísti- cas y documentales en el reino astur —donde ha sido estudiado desde hace décadas—, o en los siglos X y XI67. Sin embargo, no encontramos un desarrollo conceptual parangonable a lo que sucede en tierras orientales. Todavía la documentación de Alfonso VI muestra la limitada difusión de estas per- cepciones. En el largo reinado del monarca se desarrollaron acciones y se establecieron vínculos que conviene analizar. Lo primero que conviene destacar es que en los documentos que implican nexos con Cluny, por ejemplo en las diversas dotaciones regias al monasterio borgoñón, estas propuestas brillan por su ausencia, lo que confirma la muy pasiva posición de Cluny al respecto68. El tenor de los

61. Ubieto, Antonio. Colección Diplomática de Pedro I...: 241-243 (doc. no 24). 62. 10 julio 1091, Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 18-20 (doc. no 9). 63. Cis de Flandes había muerto con algunos de sus hijos in seruicio Dei et meo super defensionem corporis mei in posse sarraceno- rum (enero de 1106), Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 39-40 (doc. no 25). 64. Sancho y su hijo, recordando la conquista de Monzón, conceden privilegios a los de Estadilla: facimus homines de Statella quod posuistis animas uestras ad seruicium Dei et fidei Ispanie cum Ihesuchristus dominus noster, simul cum suis sanctis... (Noviembre 1090), Lacarra, José María. Documentos para el estudio de la reconquista...: 17 (doc. no 7). no obstante, me da la impresión que habría de leerse fidei Xptiane y no fidei Ispanie. 65. Mansilla, Demetrio. La documentación pontificia...: 39 y siguientes (“Epistola” 24) y 43 y siguientes (“Epistola” 27). 66. adquisistis castrum Alquezar et tulisti ad sarracenorum pessime gentis et mihi libentissime liberastis (27 abril 1069, Canellas, Ángel. Colección diplomática de Sancho Ramírez: 34-35 (doc. no 17). 67. Aunque sean similares las causas y dinámicas más pegadas al suelo del conflicto guerrero entre cristianos y musulmanes en la Península y existan protocolos paralelos en toda sacralización de la guerra, hay que tener en cuenta que los procesos de justificación ideológica tienen su desarrollo, obviamente en función de las exigencias bélicas, políticas, etc. Cabría recor- dar a José Luis Martín y a su preocupación ante siete siglos de Cruzada (Martín, José Luis. “Reconquista y cruzada”. Studia Zamorensia, 3 (1996): 215-241). 68. Cantarino ha sobrevalorado en este sentido el papel de los cluniacenses en la Península (Cantarino, Vicente. “The Spanish Reconquest: A Cluniac Holy War Against Islam?”, Islam and the Medieval West, Khalil Semaan, ed. Albany: State

450 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 documentos tiene que ver con otras cuestiones, por supuesto las del cuidado de los difuntos, también

con la obtención de su intervención ante la divinidad. n gl is h

Situaciones como la donación de iglesias toledanas a Roma o, si cabe más aún, el concilio de Hu- E in sillos de 1088 no generaron un discurso con mayor incidencia en estas coordenadas religiosas que estamos recogiendo. Las referencias en ambos casos son relativamente genéricas, aludiendo a la inva- sión de los sarracenos y a la ruina de los episcopados, o bien a la específica destrucción del edificio de la iglesia de San Servando de Toledo69. ubm i tted S Se trataba de una conquista que había alterado una situación. La invasio sarracena había gene- no t rado la destrucción de templos, el abandono del culto y, por supuesto, la pérdida de la memoria de divisiones eclesiásticas70, de derechos eclesiásticos, de toda estructura de autoridad o de cualquier e x t s 71 posibilidad de desarrollo . En 1097 estos elaboradores del relato sobre el pasado pensaban que el T

ímpetu bárbaro había dominado la Península y la había mantenido oprimida durante siglos, haciendo the

perecer todo vínculo con el vigoroso pasado cristiano. Donde antes se celebraban los sacramentos, o f dice, ahora se convocan los demonios. Lo singular del reino leonés es la lectura política que establecen sobre su actividad militar. Ya hemos citado cómo es en la Historia anónima, que conocemos como 72 del Seminense o del Pseudo-Pedro, donde aparecen muy estructuradas algunas de estas ideas . Aún r i g in al s más cerradas podemos advertirlas en la Historia Compostelana. Allí se opone un pasado en el que O florecía laChristiana religio hasta que llega el tempus persecutionis, en el que los musulmanes han hecho desaparecer el culto cristiano, hasta que llega una nueva época en que se produce la restitutio y los fieles cristianos retornan a una primera situación73. Es en este momento cuando podemos decir que en las áreas occidentales se asumen los nuevos parámetros. En algunos documentos occidentales observamos con anterioridad alguna referencia dispersa a estas ideologías. En 1065 un documento jacobeo se refiere a la actividad histórica de Alfonso III con- quistando las tierras meridionales de los gentiles, de manu gentilium abstulit y en el que se destaca la intercessio del apóstol Santiago74. Sucede, sin embargo, que es una carta manipulada. Quizá cabría con-

University of New York Press, 1980: 82-109). Más moderado había sido Erdmann (Erdmann, Carl. The Origin of the Idea of Crusade. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977: 68 y siguientes). Sobre el papel de Cluny en las cruzadas, Iogna-Prat, Dominique. Ordonner et exclure: Cluny et la société chrétienne face à l’hérésie, au judaïsme et à l’islam, 1000-1150. París: Aubier, 1998: 324 y siguientes. 69. El texto del concilio de Husillos en Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 256-258 (doc. no 97). 70. Fita, Fidel. “Texto correcto del concilio de Husillos”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Historia, 51 (1907): 410-413. 71. Sancho Ramírez afirmaba en 1082 cómo habían quedado postergadas las capillas regias por sus antecesores:persecutis gentilium impeditis multis temporibus minus ordinate constiterat (Durán, Antonio. Colección diplomática de la Catedral de Huesca: 61-63 (doc. no 45). 72. Isla, Amancio. “La Historia y el discurso sobre la guerra”. E-spania, 14 (2012): 5 de enero de 2013. Université Paris-4 Sorbonne. 4 de octubre de 2013 . 73. Floruerat autem antiquitus in illo loco inter catholice fidei cultores Christiana religio, sed, tempore persecutionis ingruente et superba paganorum tirannide Christiani nominis dignitatem conculcante, totus fere Christiane religionis cultus longo iam tempore inde euanue- rat. In toto igitur tempore Sarracenorum et longo etiam tempore post restitutionem fidelium... (Historia Compostelana: I, 2; ed. Emma Falque, Historia Compostelana, Turnhout: Brepols, 1998: 8). El autor se refiere al hallazgo del sepulcro apostólico, pero es evidente que la propuesta expone su punto de vista sobre la restauración cristiana. 74. 10 de junio de 1065, Blanco, Pilar. “Colección diplomática de Fernando I...”: 187-188 (doc. no 74); Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A...: 191-194 (doc. no 69). Sin embargo, el documento tiene algún problema: siendo una donación al obispo Cresconio, se añade una noticia que habla de él en pasado (qui tunc sedem Sancti Iacobi regebat). La noticia es, sin duda, posterior. El texto aparece fechado en 1063, pero, siendo entonces Pelayo obispo de León, suele retrasarse su fecha a 1065, pero tampoco lo era en marzo de ese año. Todavía en marzo y abril gobernaba Jimeno (Ruiz, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León...: 356-358 (doc. no 1134) y Herrero de la Fuente, Marta. Colección documental del monasterio de Sahagún. León: Centro de estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1988: II, 350-351 (doc. no 641). Todo ello convierte el asunto en algo más complejo y aboga por una redacción retocada. Abunda en las dificultades que plantea la

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 451 siderar otra, procedente del entorno regio, en la que se advierten algunos de los elementos que hemos

nglish destacado, la del traslado de la sede de Oca. En el texto se hace referencia a la iglesia ab impia ismaeli-

E tarum gente destructam. No es una afirmación extraordinaria, pero es probable que esté interpolada75. in En realidad, en las escrituras de la primera mitad del siglo XI, cuando se resaltan las razones del supuesto estado de deterioro que justificaría la acción restauradora, se apunta a los años sin gobierno, a la situación de desorden político que sería la propiciadora de que la justicia no fuera ubmitted servida. En algún caso se destaca la desidia de la jerarquía76. Un documento de 1093 incorpora S otro más antiguo, datado en 1085, y ensalza la tarea conquistadora de los reyes. El texto enfatiza n o t la concesión divina del triunfo y, de este modo, confirma la voluntad de Dios al respecto de la empresa, pero no hay más77. Lo que suscribe y admira es la actividad de Alfonso expugnans omnes exts

T barbaras nationes con la ayuda de Dios, una dinámica que también se describe como arrebatar estas

the ciudades de manibus sarrazenorum.

o f La primera mención llamativa en la línea que estamos trazando procedería del documento

toledano del 18 de diciembre de 1086. Se trata de un pseudo-original que, según Reilly, fue em- bellecido en el proceso de su copia. Gambra lo considera sospechoso y, en efecto, la presencia de 78 riginals algún confirmante ya lo sugiere . En el texto se aprecian elementos que hemos destacado: una O percepción histórica que remite a la larga ocupación por parte de un pueblo blasfemo. Se insiste en este comportamiento contra lugares santos para los cristianos, con una clara alusión a las igle- sias. El tema se conjuga con el de los derechos históricos, pues esa ciudad había sido la sede de los antepasados de Alfonso y, por tanto, no se abandona el perfil que aboga por su recuperación por razones históricas. Lo evidente es que en años sucesivos reaparecen algunas de estas tomas de posición frente a los musulmanes. En 1088 y en el contexto de la donación de San Servando de Toledo a Roma se destacan de nuevo las referencias a la destrucción de un sector extramuros de la ciudad a barbaris et paganis. Lo mismo se repite en una escritura de 1089 referida a la sede de Santa María, pero qui- zá aquí hay no tanto la indicación de un hecho, sino más bien un modo de entender la presencia musulmana como causa de la destrucción de las iglesias79. En esta escritura toledana se aprecian componentes que ya resultan familiares, la destrucción por obra de los musulmanes, la restau-

inexistencia de otros confirmantes episcopales y la titulación regia comoLegionensis rex; el monarca puede titularse princeps o rex in Legione, pero es anómala esta referencia que no estaba presente en las coordenadas políticas del momento. Los con- firmantes y la data debieron ser copiados en ambiente conimbricense, dando lugar a una donación que, inserta en el Livro Preto, no figura entre los documentos del Tumbo A. Podemos admitir la existencia de ese viaje, quizá antes de la ordenación de Pelayo, siendo redactado unos años más tarde e incorporando lenguajes no necesariamente propios del momento. 75. Fue estudiada por Luciano Serrano, quien insistía en el protagonismo de Urraca y Elvira, que en julio de 1074 dota- ron la fábrica de la iglesia de Gamonal, donde fue trasladada Oca, y la concedieron al obispo Jimeno (Serrano, Luciano. El obispado de Burgos y Castilla primitiva desde el siglo V al XIII, Madrid: Instituto Valencia de Don Juan, 1935: I, 290 y siguientes). Ya advirtió Reilly (Reilly, Bernard. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under King Alfonso VI (1065-1109). Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988: 98) de algunos de los problemas que plantea esta carta, tal y como la conservamos, y Gambra coincide con esta apreciación. 76. 18 febrero 1085, Cavero, Gregoria; Martín, Encarnación. Colección documental de la catedral de Astorga...: 339-345 (doc. no 435): negligentia et impotentia pastorum... 77. 29 mayo 1085, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 214-218 (doc. no 83): stetitque super eam quousque dominus eam illi tribuit in suo dominio... 78. Carlos Ayala tiene una opinión quizá más condescendiente (Ayala, Carlos de. “Reconquista, cruzada y órdenes mi- litares”. Bulletin du centre d’études médiévales d’Auxerre, 2 (2008): 6). Para Gambra se trata de un documento “apócrifo o manipulado”. 79. 9 noviembre 1089, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 264-266 (doc. no 101).

452 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 ración que ya implica la vuelta de los edificios a ser consagrados como iglesias, la concesión de

mezquitas. En 1091 reaparece la vieja idea de la destrucción de las sedes episcopales y, por tanto, n gl is h nglish la necesidad de ponerle remedio a la situación, si bien se responsabiliza a la sarracenorum ferocitas80. E in Dicho de otra manera, lentamente se está haciendo hueco una percepción cada vez más enfrenta- da, quizá también más insegura con respecto al proceso expansivo. Nos parece razonable entender que la derrota de Zalaca y la amenaza almorávide sirvieron para desarrollar estos elementos. A partir de la década de los 90 se hace frecuente en la documentación alfonsina la solicitud de ubm i tted ubmitted S la ayuda divina contra los enemigos del monarca. Suele explicitarse como impetrar super inimicis no t not meis Ysmaheliticis uindictam81 o, de modo próximo, contra gentem paganam oracionum uestrarum instancia possim iuuari82. Se consagra lentamente la idea de una guerra más convulsa que gira en e x t s exts torno a la fe religiosa. Alfonso recordaba en los últimos años de esa década cuántos esfuerzos y T

calamidades había soportado, cuantos recursos económicos y cuántas vidas de cristianos había the

83 costado la “liberación” de Toledo a paganorum perfidia y en 1100 instaba al Apóstol a ayudarlo o f of para colocar a los pagani bajo sus pies y someter la fe musulmana bajo su yugo84. En definitiva, hay que esperar al entorno de 1085 para que aparezcan estos elementos que

irían cobrando mayor desarrollo en años posteriores, un movimiento lento, desde luego, si lo r i g in al s igin a ls comparamos con lo que sucede en el Este peninsular. No creo que el único motivo de este retraso O se deba a una significativa menor exposición del reino leonés a las evoluciones generales del Oc- cidente europeo. Creo que hay que pensar que las propuestas “cruzadistas” proporcionaban una justificación para la guerra y la conquista sobre los musulmanes. Sin embargo, el reino leonés ya poseía un discurso de legitimación propia que era la recuperación del reino de los godos, la vuelta al reino originario, la plena restauración en el sentido que hemos señalado antes. Que este discur- so “cruzadista” avance con mayor ritmo en los años posteriores a Zalaca-Sagrajas parece indicar que encontró mayores posibilidades de crecer en la medida en que la trayectoria del reinado y sus dinámicas entraban en dificultades y se agudizaban todas las aristas. Probablemente, podría necesitarse toda la fuerza ideológica que estuviera a su disposición. En estos documentos se hace más presente la actividad militar del monarca y de sus ejércitos85. Se ha escrito en abundancia sobre el proyecto político alfonsino y, por nuestra parte, hemos reforzado su particular lectura de la recuperación del reino visigodo. Desde este punto de vista, no necesitaba convertir en explicación central una propuesta que podía sustituir la anterior y que le haría perder muchos elementos legitimadores, sobre todo estando tan cerca de las convulsiones aristocráticas. Por origen, el rey descendía de los legítimos reyes de los godos y, como tal, tenía plenos derechos a recuperar lo que fue su regnum. Una lectura simplemente cristiana, abría los

80. 10 de noviembre de 1091, Ruiz Asencio, José Manuel. Colección documental del Archivo de la Catedral de León, IV (1032-1109). León: Centro de estudios e investigación “San Isidoro”, 1990: 553-556 (doc. no 1260). Herrero de la Fuente, Marta. Colección documental del monasterio de Sahagún. León: Centro de estudios e Investigación “San Isidoro”, 1988: III, 199 (doc. no 885). 81. 13 de abril 1094, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 335-337 (doc. no 131). Puede haber aquí el desarrollo de alguna influencia cluniacense. Odilón de Cluny en su carta al abad Paterno se había referido a sus constantes oraciones por la expulsión de los pagani. Odonis Cluniacensis, “Epistola II”, Patrologiae. Cursus Completus, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne. Paris: Garnier fratres-J.P. Migne successores, 1880: CXLII, col. 941; ver también los siguientes. Ya había advertido Erdmann de esta actuación (Erdmann, Carl. The Origin of the Idea of Crusade: 68). 82. 14 de abril 1097, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 362-364 (doc. no 141). 83. 13 de febrero [1098-99], Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 393-397 (doc. no 152). 84. 16 de enero 1100, Lucas, Manuel. La documentación del Tumbo A...: 194-196 (doc. no 70); Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 400-402 (doc. no 154). 85. También, 8 de mayo 1107, Gambra, Andrés. Alfonso VI. Cancillería, Curia e Imperio...: 478-481 (doc. no 188).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 453 derechos a cualquier Carlomagno que pretendiera realizar la guerra en la Península, mientras que

nglish el relato tradicional reforzaba los derechos de los herederos de los reyes godos. Sin embargo, el

E deterioro de ese punto de partida goticista, la quiebra del proyecto político alfonsino y el recrude- in cimiento de la presión musulmana fomentaron un lenguaje más en conexión con otros que eran frecuentes en ese momento. En los territorios orientales, en la medida en que estas propuestas goticistas eran más débiles, en tanto que era preciso atraer contingentes humanos para la conquis- ubmitted ta y, también, claro es, en la medida en que estaban más abiertos a las influencias ultrapirenaicas, S las propuestas cruzadas fueron pronto integradas. n o t exts T the o f riginals O

454 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 440-454. ISSN 1888-3931 Las guerras en la Cataluña del siglo XII.

Aristocracia y liderazgo político n gl is h E in

Maria Bonet Universitat Rovira i Virgili ubm i tted S no t

Resumen e x t s T

Las guerras feudales y de conquista caracterizaron los desarrollos bélicos catalanes del siglo XII y the

comportaron la consolidación de los distintos líderes militares y políticos aristocráticos. Entre ellos, o f se impuso el poder condal o del rey, que amplió su dominación y consumó el proceso expansionista mediante fórmulas novedosas como fueron la pacificación, la formación de ejércitos y los pactos

con dirigentes foráneos. Los condes y el rey implicaron a agentes militares ajenos a los intereses r i g in al s aristocráticos regionales, implementaron nuevas políticas militares y encontraron recursos ideoló- O gicos o legislativos en pro de su preeminencia en el despliegue militar. El auge de las ciudades, las villas y la defensa o ocupación de las fronteras conquistadas contribuyeron a la reformulación del sistema militar, que resquebrajó la casi exclusividad de las familias nobiliarias en la actividad mili- tar. Sin embargo, sus miembros señorearon y guerrearon en los ámbitos regionales, centrando su actividad bélica en torno a la defensa y adquisición de patrimonio, así como en la fijación de su ju- risdicción. Patrimonializar, dominar y guerrear fueron conceptos asimilados a una misma realidad, que incluso eran intercambiables. Entre tanto, las conquistas guiadas por la providencia situaron en otro plano la “inevitabilidad” de la conquista, adquisición o “liberación” de al-Ándalus1.

1. Presentación

La actividad bélica en Cataluña se transformó en el siglo XII, cuando se redefinieron las relacio- nes aristocráticas y el liderazgo militar y político2. Hasta entonces, los lazos entre los miembros de la nobleza caballeresca habían comprometido las obligaciones militares y configurado la trama de relaciones políticas. A lo largo del siglo, algunos linajes destacados se impusieron en los territorios en detrimento de otras familias aristocráticas, aunque se hicieron más dependientes de otros pode- res con mayor proyección política. De este modo, la jerarquía se impuso en el nuevo encaje de las relaciones aristocráticas, que fue dinamizado por la autoridad condal o regia3. Los poderes condales

1. El estudio se ha realizado gracias al proyecto de investigación ‘HAR 2009-13225’ del “Ministerio de Ciencia e Inno- vación del Gobierno de España”. Se citan algunas fechas a título indicativo. La antroponimia y toponimia se refiere en catalán. 2. Sirvan como obras de referencia para la definición de las nuevas realidades políticas: Salrach, Josep Maria. “El procés de feudalització (segles III-XII)”, Història de Catalunya. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1987: II, 327-398; Bisson, Thomas. The Medieval Crown of Aragon. A Short History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991: 35 y siguientes; Sabaté, Flocel. “Els primers temps: segle XII (1137-1213)”, Història de la Corona d’Aragó. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 2007: I, 31-123. 3. Sucedió de forma parecida en el vecino reino de Aragón: Laliena, Carlos. La formación del estado feudal. Aragón y Na- varra en época de Pedro I. Huesca: Colección de Estudios Altoaragoneses, 1996: 247-267; y Utrilla, Juan F. “Los grupos aristocráticos aragoneses en la época de la gran expansión territorial del reino (1076-1134): poder, propiedad y mentali-

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 455 y del rey aumentaron su liderazgo al organizar y conducir las principales actividades militares o

nglish las conquistas en Cataluña, pero también la paz. Además, otros actores, vinculados a la Iglesia o

E a las ciudades, participaron en la mencionada transformación militar y en la aparición de nuevas in instancias de gobierno4. La guerra había sido un asunto casi exclusivo del ejercicio de poder de la aristocracia caballeres- ca de implantación territorial5, aunque a lo largo del siglo XII empezó a ser definida y controlada ubmitted por otros grupos dominantes de la sociedad. Asimismo, los pactos, las leyes y las nuevas ideas sobre S la violencia favorecieron nuevos desarrollos bélicos y políticos6. La contención de la violencia7, n o t la conducción y la administración de las conquistas fueron elementos principales del despliegue de los poderes emergentes, que se produjo en el contexto de crecimiento económico y de cambios exts 8 T en la geopolítica de la Península Ibérica . Sin embargo, el liderazgo militar, y en parte político, se

the mantuvo en gran medida, en manos de la aristocracia de implantación territorial, salvo en ámbitos

o f de la Cataluña Nueva, como en las fronteras o las ciudades. Las familias nobles se resistieron a per-

der el control militar a favor de otras instancias políticas, como las del conde o del rey, ocasionando conflictos y cierto reparto de ámbitos de influencia.

riginals Esta contribución analiza las características y los cambios de los procesos bélicos catalanes del O siglo XII. En este sentido, el casi monopolio militar ejercido por los señores del territorio cedió ante nuevos actores bélicos y se formó un sistema de dominación más complejo con renovados lideraz- gos políticos, como el ejercido por el poder condal. Para elaborar este estudio, se ha atendido a los cambios en la tipología y en las fórmulas de las fuentes documentales, con el propósito de analizar el fenómeno bélico a partir de las expresiones y registros usados en la memoria escrita. De este modo, se toman los vocablos y las fórmulas documentales como “signos” de la realidad expresada. Así, en el primer tercio del siglo XII, las relaciones de poder se fijaron mediante las “conveniencias” —pactos feudovasalláticos— y los juramentos de fidelidad, que regularon las obligaciones milita- res entre los miembros de la aristocracia. Desde mediados del siglo XII, aumentaron las cartas de población, con variables regionales, y fueron disminuyendo los pactos vasalláticos. En esta fase, las obligaciones militares exigidas fueron muy inferiores a las del período inicial del siglo y además, muchos beneficiarios de los documentos procedían de grupos sociales no nobiliarios, reflejándose

dades”, De Toledo a Huesca. Sociedades medievales en transición a finales del siglo XI (1080-1100). Carlos Laliena, Juan F. Utrilla, eds. Zaragoza: Institución Fernando el Católico, 1998: 167-197. 4. Para la diversificación de fórmulas de organización militar, amén de las tradicionales feudovasalláticas, véase Con- tamine, Philippe. La guerra en la Edad Media. Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1984: 84-127. 5. France, John. Western Warfare in the Age of the Crusades, 1000-1300. Londres-Nueva York: Routledge, 1999: 39-41. 6. Entre las novedades ideológicas sobre la guerra, destacó el pensamiento cruzado, o lo que algunos autores denomi- nan la idea de “guerra santa”. Para una visión de conjunto, Flori, Jean. La guerra santa: la formación de la idea de cruzada en el Occidente cristiano. Granada: Editorial Trotta, 2003; y una completa atención a la historiografía del tema, Ayala, Carlos de. “Definición de cruzada: estado de la cuestión”.Clio y crimen, 6 (2009): 216-242; o en relación a la reconquista, García Fitz, Francisco. La reconquista. Granada: Editorial Universidad de Granada, 2010: 79-124. 7. Poly, Jean-Pierre; Bournazel, Eric. El cambio feudal (siglos X al XII). Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1984: 164-177 y su relación con el auge del movimiento cruzado Cowdrey, Herbert Edward J. “From the Peace of God to the First Crusade”, La primera cruzada, novecientos años después: el concilio de Clermont y los orígenes del movimiento cruzado, Luis García-Guijarro, ed. Castelló de la Plana: Castelló d’Impressió, 1997: 51-61. 8. Para la primera mitad del siglo XII de Castilla y del contexto peninsular, Reilly, Bernard. The Kingdom of León-Castilla under King Alfonso VII (1126-1157). Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998. Un planteamiento sintético del siglo XII, pero atento a todos los cambios político-territoriales, Estepa, Carlos. “El dominio político hispanocristiano en el Occidente peninsular (910-1369)”, La historia peninsular en los espacios de frontera: las “extremaduras” históricas y la “transierra” (siglos XI-XV), Francisco García Fitz, Juan Francisco Jiménez, coords. Madrid-Murcia: Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales-Editum, 2012: 17-45; 33-37.

456 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 las transformaciones sociales, políticas y de la guerra. De forma paralela, las diferencias entre los

poderes feudales se saldaron mediante las cartas de pacificación en el primer tercio de siglo, que se n gl is h remplazaron por juicios desde mediados del XII. E in Las locuciones sobre la actividad militar han sido objeto de atención puesto que los usos de las palabras reflejan, muy claramente, la compresión de los contemporáneos sobre los distintos de- sarrollos de la guerra, así como de sus vertientes sociales y políticas. En este sentido, los epígrafes escogidos en este texto son fieles a los vocablos más repetidos en el léxico de las fuentes y mues- ubm i tted S tran los conceptos principales que definían la guerra para los hombres del siglo XII. Estos fueron: no t “guerra” aplicado a varias realidades, “ejército”, “pacificación” como limitación u ordenación de la guerra, liderazgo militar como control de la guerra y “fortificaciones” como testimonio principal e x t s de la dominación militar. El planteamiento se aleja deliberadamente de enfoques sobre la política T

y la guerra medieval de corte estatalista, y que, por consiguiente, han preponderado un concepto the

9 de guerra de grandes eventos o como resultado de una determinada estrategia política . Sin duda, o f las efemérides expansivas del condado de Barcelona fueron un hito en los cambios militares y políticos, que contribuyeron a la definición del liderazgo político condal, pero el control militar

del territorio había sido y siguió siendo una fuente de poder principal. La aristocracia ejerció dicha r i g in al s función militar de forma preferente, aunque se incorporaron otros agentes a partir de mediados del O XII, que respondía al gran cambio militar, territorial y económico. Estas páginas muestran como la guerra era una fuente principal, sino la principal, del poder y concitó legitimidad política, siguiendo aquí un enfoque distinto y básicamente opuesto a la idea de C. Von Clausewitz10.

2. Guerras, ejército y pacificación

La guerra era la fuente de poder de los distintos actores de la dominación política y la transfor- mación de la actividad bélica en el siglo XII se produjo a la par que los cambios de liderazgo político. En la documentación catalana, la palabra “guerra” se utilizó para denominar una variada tipología de actividades bélicas, aunque se refirió a los conflictos feudales de forma recurrente. Este uso refleja como estos desarrollos bélicos fueron principales y centrales en el “imaginario” colectivo de la época. En cambio, la utilización de otros términos a la hora de referir confrontaciones de mayor envergadura, como por ejemplo “formar un ejército” o “adquirir”, se hacía eco de su especial o excepcional valoración de las conquistas. La palabra “guerrear” aparecía generalmente entre las obligaciones del vasallo, según se puso por escrito en las convenientiae o en los juramentos de fidelidad del primer tercio del XII11. El va-

9. Sin querer entrar en el debate, sirva como ejemplo ilustrativo de este tipo de historia de la guerra medieval un típico recorrido por batallas y confrontaciones entre grandes formaciones políticas, Carey, Bryan Todd. Warfare in the Me- dieval World. Barnsley: Pen and Sword Military, 2009. Esto no obsta para apreciar el libro como contribución al estudio de la táctica y técnica de la guerra. En el ámbito español, los procesos de conquista cristiana y sus desarrollos políticos siguen siendo los principales objetos de estudio en el análisis de la guerra y política plenomedievales. Sin duda, tuvieron grandes repercusiones, las mayores, pero la guerra local o feudal era un elemento permanente, por activa o por pasiva, y crucial en las relaciones de poder en el seno de las sociedades feudales. Su entidad y transformación merecen mayor atención a la hora de describir qué era realmente la guerra y la política en dichas formaciones. 10. Partiendo del brillante planteamiento de John Keegan: War is not the continuation of policy by other means, Keegan, John. A History of Warfare. Londres: Pimlico, 2004: 3-59, especialmente 3. La conocida afirmación de Carl Von Clausewitz sostiene que “la guerra no es otra cosa que la continuación del intercambio político con una combinación de otros me- dios”. Clausewitz, Carl Von. De la Guerra. Barcelona: Editorial Labor, 1976: 320-321. 11. El servicio feudal fue principal entre las fórmulas de reclutamiento, e incluso “ha servido para caracterizar la guerra medieval en su conjunto”, García Fitz, Francisco. Ejércitos y actividades guerreras en la Edad Media europea. Madrid: Arco

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 457 sallo se comprometía a luchar por el patrimonio del señor y se expresaba con los términos: “tener,

nglish defender y guerrear”. De este modo, estaba obligado a desplegar su “función” militar para defender

E el patrimonio del señor. Guillem de Lluçà se comprometió a guerrear para mantener los bienes de in la diócesis de Vic de su señor, el obispo. Otros vasallos especificaron que “guerrearían” por el patri- monio del conde de Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer III12. En menos ocasiones, el vasallo precisó que “si se produjese guerra por el lugar infeudado, lo defendería o guardaría”13. Incluso en algún caso, ubmitted el señor retuvo el derecho de guerrear desde el castillo infeudado14. S El vasallo debía participar en otras actividades de carácter militar, definidas con términos con- n o t cretos, como “las huestes”, “las cabalgadas” y la formación de “séquitos”. Estos compromisos se consignaban en los juramentos de fidelidad15. A veces, se precisó el número de caballeros que exts

T aportaría el vasallo en esas acciones, que osciló entre dos y cinco caballeros. Incluso uno se obligó 16 the con veinte caballeros . Muy ocasionalmente, se indicó que la ayuda era para la hueste de Hispania o f

Libros, 1998: 18-21, que encaja con la afirmación quemedieval warfare was dominated by great proprietors, France, John. Western Warfare...: 53. La proliferación de las “conveniencias” a partir del siglo XI, se ha relacionado con la necesidad de riginals poner fin a la violencia feudal, o a un conflicto feudal en particular, Bonnassie, Pierre. “Les conventions féodales dans O la Catalogne du XIè siècle”, Les structures sociales de l’Aquitaine, du Languedoc et de l’Espagne au premier age féodale. París: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1969: 169. Sin embargo, esta interpretación contrasta con el hecho que el vasallo explicitase su compromiso de guerrear para blindar del patrimonio de su señor, según sucedía en el siglo XII. 12. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona, de Ramon Berenguer II a Ramon Berenguer IV, ed. Ignasi Baiges, Gaspar Feliu, Josep Maria Salrach. Barcelona: Fundació Noguera, 2010: II, 604-605 (doc. no 345) (1104). Acuerdos según la fórmula de “tener y guerrear”: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 841-842 (doc. no 493), 842-843 (doc. no 494), 843-844 (doc. nº 495) y 844-845 (doc. nº 496); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 850-851 (doc. nº 501) (1118); 852 (doc. nº 502). A veces, la defensa o la idea de guerrear por el patrimonio dominical se aplicaba a lo que el señor tendría en el futuro: Colección de documentos inéditos del archivo general de la Corona de Aragón, ed. Próspero de Bofarull. Barcelona: José Eusebio Monfort, 1849: IV, 38-41 (doc. nº 15) (1134). Otros convenios: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 816-817 (doc. nº 476) (1116); 848-849 (doc. nº 499); 902 (doc. nº 539) (1122); 917-918 (doc. nº 545) (1122); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1046-1048 (doc. nº 628) (1130); 1151-1153 (doc. nº 694); 1161 (doc. nº 700); 1207-1209 (doc. nº 732); 1350-1352 (doc. nº 831); 1387-1388 (doc. nº 857); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1582-1584 (doc. nº 975) (1154); Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña, ed. José María Font. Barcelona-Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1969: I, 111-114 (doc. nº 69) (1149). Los beneficiaros del feudo ayudaríanibi intrare et exire et guerrejare contra omnes, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barce- lona...: II, 677-678 (doc. nº 372), o a “ayudar a tener”: ero tibi aiudator a tener et ad aver, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 839-840 (doc. nº 492). 13. Los hermanos Arnau, Bernat y Ramon Pere guerrearían contra quienes quisieran tomar el castillo del Papiol, del que eran feudatarios, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 801-802 (doc. nº 464) (1115); de modo semejante se dispuso para en el castillo de Ribes, Colección de documentos inéditos del archivo...: IV, 76-77 (doc. nº 34) (1140). Ramon Pons de Milany juró fidelidad por el castillo de Creixell, y afirmó al conde, su señor, que haría todo lo que debía hacer un vasallo, especificando el “servicio militar” y las “guerras”,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 890-891 (doc. nº 530) (1121). A veces, el beneficiario de la custodia de un castillo, como Ramon Berenguer IV en Peralada, po- día “entrar y salir” y guerrear allí, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1093-4 (doc. nº 653) (1132). Otros pactos: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1380-1381 (doc. nº 853) (1146) y Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 678 (doc. nº 373) (1107), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II 827-828 (doc. nº 483) (1117). 14. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona y Marqués de Provenza. Documentos (1162-1196), ed. Ana Isabel Sánchez. Zaragoza: Institución Fernando el Católico, 1995: 79-80 (doc. nº 42) (1167). 15. Ramon Miró prometió a su señor, B. R. de Montcada, en la infeudación del castillo de Montcada, que los milites autem ipsum fevum tinentes faciant... Berengario hostes et cavalcatas et seguiments et servitia: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 628-629 (doc. nº 335), (1101) y parecidos: Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 642-643 (doc. nº 347) (1104); 662-663 (doc. nº 363) (1106); 709-710 (doc. nº 391) (1109); 882-883 (doc. nº 525), (1120); 890-891 (doc. nº 530), (1121); 924 (doc. nº 550); 709-710 (doc. nº 591). Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1065- 1067 (doc. nº 634); 1177-1178 (doc. nº 712) (1136); 1193-1194 (doc. nº 724); 1263-1264 (doc. nº 768); 1304-1305 (doc. nº 799); 1324-1326 (doc. nº 815); 1420-1421 (doc. nº 880). Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1582- 1584 (doc. nº 975) (1145); 1585-1588 (doc. nº 979) (1154); 1705-1707 (doc. nº 1063) (1160). 16. Ut habeat illis in hostes et cavacaldas III milites, según Arbert Bernat prometió a su señor; Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 775-777 (doc. nº 442) (1113); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1598-1599 (doc. nº

458 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 —es decir al-Ándalus—, que aparecía designada como una actividad extraordinaria y distinta a las 17 cabalgadas o huestes . Los efectivos aportados por los vasallos en los séquitos militares reflejan que n gl is h se trataba de formaciones modestas. A veces, el vasallo corría a cargo de su propia manutención, y E in otras recibía algún tipo de ayuda de su señor, como los animales. El cumplimiento de las obligacio- nes militares de los vasallos se reforzó e impulsó en los Usatges, las leyes compiladas por el conde de Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer IV18. Ya a finales del siglo XII, el rey Alfonso el Casto, Alfonso II de Aragón, exoneró del cumplimiento de hueste y cabalgadas a los moradores de ciertos lugares. Este ubm i tted S cambio sucedió conforme al aumento de su autoridad y en el contexto de la progresiva relajación no t de tales obligaciones por parte de algunos dependientes19. Los términos “guerrear”, “servicios”, “hueste” y “cabalgada” estaban fundamentalmente aso- e x t s ciados a los deberes del vasallo. En el marco de las relaciones feudovasalláticas, la idea de “guerra” T

estaba referida a la defensa del patrimonio del señor en el primer tercio del XII. Además, los con- the

ceptos “tener” o “adquirir” se aplicaron a otros desarrollos bélicos y por tanto, la guerra se relacio- o f naba inequívocamente con el hecho de “patrimonializar”. La palabra guerra fue primordial para denominar la lucha entre señores en un territorio o 20 “guerra feudal” , que era ocasionada por disputas por el patrimonio y el dominio territorial o r i g in al s jurisdiccional. Berenguer Ramon de Castellet y Ramon Berenguer III sostuvieron una “guerra” en O 1113 y Pelet y el conde de Pallars Jussa, Bernat Ramon, en 111721. Pere de Puigverd se compro- metió a luchar a favor de Pere de Bellvís, su señor, que estaba en guerra con el conde de Urgell22. A menudo, el señor exigía la implicación de su vasallo en alguna guerra y lugar concreto, como sucedió en los castillos de Tamarit, Mor o Espluga23. Más ocasionalmente, el señor brindó ayuda militar a su “vasallo” en caso de guerra. El rey, Alfonso el Casto, comprometió al conde de Urgell

991) (1155). Guillem Jofré contribuiría con veinte caballeros en la hueste condal, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Bar- celona...: II, 854-856 (doc. nº 504) (1118). 17. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1042-1044 (doc. nº 626) (1129). Et faciam vobis cavalcadas cum meis hominibus et... ostem in Yspaniam cum IIII cabalarios, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1776-1777 (doc. nº 1105). Las cabalgadas a tierras andalusíes formaban parte del proceso expansionista, García Fitz, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras en el Mediterráneo latino (siglos XI al XIII). Cristianos contra musulmanes”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte, Daniel Baloup, Philippe Josserand, dirs. Toulouse: Casa de Velázquez y Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 2006: 323-358 y 335. 18. Los Usatges de Barcelona, ed. Fernando Valls. Barcelona: Promocions i Publicacions de la Universitat de Barcelona, 1984: 82 (número 34): Qui fallierit hostes vel cavalcatas seniore suo; 83 (número 35): Qui viderit senorem suum necesse habere et fallierit; 83 (número 36): Qui solidus est de seniore, y 83 (número 37): Qui seniorem suum in bello vivum relinquerit. 19. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 543-545 (doc. nº 410) (1185); 632-638 (doc. nº 479) (1188) y 697-698 (doc. nº 531) (1191). No obstante, el mismo rey Alfonso siguió reclamando las huestes y cabalgadas en cartas de pobla- ción como en Vilafranca, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 698-791 (doc. nº 532) (1191). 20. Un ejemplo bien explicado de guerra “feudal” es el que enfrentó a las poderosas familias de los Montcada y Cardo- na, véase Rodríguez, Francesc. Els vescomtes de Cardona al segle XII. Una història a través dels seus testaments. Lleida: Univer- sitat de Lleida, 2009: 56, 67-68, 71, 109. 21. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. nº 445) y 824-825 (doc. nº 481). Se decía de Pelet: pels mals et per guerres que ad illo fecit. 22. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet, ed. Agustí Altisent. Poblet: Abadía de Poblet, 1993: 118 (doc. nº 127) (1150): che io Pere de Puigverd, le’n vala... de ista guerra aut de gerres tro a fi et acord ne sia venguda. 23. En la infeudación de Tamarit, se exigía al vasallo estar y combatir con tres caballeros en el castillo dada la posibilidad de guerra, El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus, ed. Federico Udina. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1947: 44 (doc. nº 38) (1134). El rey Alfonso acordó que los milites de Mor estarían a su lado en caso de “guerras” con su señor, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 373-375 (doc. nº 249) (1179). Pere de Malacara lucharía en el casti- llo de Espluga en caso que su señor participase en una “guerra”, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 125 (doc. nº 137).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 459 cuarenta caballeros para la defensa de Lleida en 1188, para asistirlo en la guerra que sostenía con 24 nglish Ponç de Cabrera .

E Más allá de las obligaciones vasalláticas, el vocablo “guerra” se empleó para las acciones milita- in res de los señores en sus territorios y como término genérico referido a un conflicto regional. De este modo, se calificó el ataque lanzado por el conde de Barcelona a su vasallo, Berenguer Ramon de Castellet, en 1113. Luego, se alcanzó un acuerdo de pacificación debido a que B. R. de Castellet ubmitted no pudo “aguantar la guerra del conde”25. En la pugna por el control de Tarragona, Guillem de S Claramunt fue acusado de haber hecho la guerra en la ciudad, en el territorio y a los habitantes n o t de Tarragona en 116826. A veces, los conflictos eran muy cruentos y podían afectar a toda la po- blación, como en Cardona, según refirió Ramon Folch al Papa Alejandro III27. El levantamiento de exts

T los musulmanes sometidos en el territorio de Tortosa se denominó guerra, y se temió que la guerra 28 the sarracenorum paralizase la recolección de la cosecha en 1174 . La utilización del término “guerra”

o f identificaba la revuelta de alcance regional con otros episodios típicos de guerra feudal, y segura-

mente dado que ambos ataques afectaban a la entidad del poder dominical. Vistos estos testimonios, se observa como la palabra “guerra” sirvió para denominar los con-

riginals flictos feudales territoriales de forma profusa y generalizada, mostrando cómo fue la guerra por O antonomasia del siglo XII. Además, identificó los ataques protagonizados por los musulmanes, ya fuesen acometidos por rebeldes sometidos o las razias desde posiciones andalusíes29. Finalmente, también se empleó para conflictos de mayor entidad como la lucha de Génova y Pisa, cuando el rey Alfonso II se comprometió a “hacer la guerra” a favor de los genoveses30. También refirió la “guerra” contra el rey Lobo vel cum aliis sarracenis, que emprenderían el rey Alfonso II y el rey de Navarra, Sancho el Fuerte31. Las referencias a los ataques contra los musulmanes desde tierras cristianas catalanas contenían expresiones singulares en relación a las usadas para nombrar la guerra. Tal peculiaridad es el testi- monio de la importancia y, sobre todo, de la excepcionalidad con la que eran vistas las conquistas de al-Ándalus. Destacaba la idea providencial de dichas expediciones y era común la utilización de la expresión “formación de un ejército” para denominarlas. El lenguaje se hacía eco de una rea- lidad de mayor envergadura y de la necesidad o “inevitabilidad” de la protección divina32. En los

24. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 640-641 (doc. nº 481), y otros acuerdos, 651-652 (doc. nº 490) (1189), 678-679 (doc. nº 515) (1190). En 1190, el rey se implicó a favor del conde y del obispo de Urgell en otra guerra feudal, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 672-673, (doc. nº 509). Curiosamente, antes había asegurado su “ayudar” militar a Ponç de Cabrera en la guerra que sostenía con el conde de Urgell, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 557-558 (doc. nº 420) (1185). 25. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. nº 445). 26. Morera, Emilio. Tarragona Cristiana. Tarragona: Diputació de Tarragona, 1981: I, 464 y Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 100 (doc. nº 59). 27. Rodríguez, Francesc. Els vescomtes de Cardona...: 65 (1175-1176). 28. El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus: 144 (doc. nº 142) (1170) y El llibre Blanch de Santes Creus: 181 (doc. nº 179) (1174). 29. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, dirs. Maria Teresa Fe- rrer, Manuel Riu. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: I, 300-302 (doc. nº 44) (1128). 30. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 575-576 (doc. nº 432) (1186): quod Pisani vel aliqua persona...guerram fecerit Ianue... quamdiu guerra illa duraverit, et illis personis guerris faciam per me et hominos meos. 31. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón, Conde de Barcelona...: 97-99 (doc. nº 58) (1168). La paz con el rey Lobo, por contra, generaría recursos que se repartirían y que podría generar “guerra” entre los dos reyes, según se advertía. 32. Las conquistas eran fruto de la voluntad divina, y dicha atribución se había plasmado en la documentación catalana del siglo XI, Sabaté, Flocel. “Frontera peninsular e identidad (siglos XI-XII)”, Las Cinco Villas aragonesas en la Europa de

460 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 proyectos de ofensivas a tierras andalusíes se emplearon fórmulas como “se conquistará por la vo-

luntad de Dios”, “cuando Dios nos devuelva”, “cuando Dios dará Lleida en poder de los cristianos” n gl is h o cum eam nos divina gratia adquirere voluerit et obtinere33. Al carácter providencial de las expediciones E in se añadía la idea de “liberar las tierras de manos de los musulmanes”, como expresó el rey Alfonso en un proyecto de conquista de Mallorca34. Las empresas contra los musulmanes u otros enemigos foráneos eran descritas como “adquirir”, “liberar” y era el resultado “de reunir un ejército”. Entre las fórmulas para denominar este tipo de contiendas, la palabra “guerra” ocupó un lugar inferior al ubm i tted S manejado en los pactos vasalláticos. Con todo, se llamaron también bellica facta o bellum, como en no t la crónica pisana o Liber Maiolichinus35. El término ejército describía un contingente militar con un número destacado de efectivos, so- e x t s 36 bre todo en comparación con formaciones menores que servían para las cabalgadas o las huestes . T

Los ejércitos se mencionaban en acuerdos militares de envergadura, y para nombrar las tropas or- the

37 ganizadas en contra los musulmanes . El conde de Barcelona se arrogó la potestad para reunir las o f tropas o el ejército para atacar Hispania, así como negociar la paz y la guerra con los musulmanes, según defendía la legislación de los Usatges38. La administración de la guerra contribuyó a definir la

autoridad del conde frente a otros poderes, y atribuyó a los musulmanes, o enemigos, un ámbito r i g in al s primordial para la ejecución de su liderazgo39. Así, el rey de Sicilia se había comprometido a ayudar O al conde de Barcelona con un ejército y a unirse a su ejército para atacar las tierras andalusíes40. En los acuerdos para la conquista de Tortosa de 1146, los genoveses establecieron que aportarían un “ejército” para ayudar a Ramon Berenguer IV. La formación dispondría de máquinas de guerra,

los siglos XII y XIII. De la frontera natural a las fronteras políticas y socioeconómicas (foralidad y municipalidad), Esteban Sarasa, coord. Zaragoza: Institución Fernando el Católico, 2007: 77. 33. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1185-1186 (doc. nº 718), Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 104-106 (doc. nº 64), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 291-292 (doc. nº 207) (1176). Ut Deus reddeat Lerida a cristianis, Diplo- matari de Santa Maria de Poblet...: 92-93 (doc. nº 92) y Quando Deus per misericordiam suam tradiderit Yspaniam in manu christianorum, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 103-104 (doc. nº 106) y 104 (doc. nº 107). La idea providencial se aplicó a otras campañas militares destacadas, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 692-693 (doc. nº 380). 34. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 345-346 (doc. nº 255) (1178): divina providentia gratia de manu paganorum sic in dominio nos- tro Ihesucristi confidimus, in brevi liberabimus, que en los condados catalanes era una idea de raíz carolingia, Sabaté, Flocel. “Frontera peninsular e identidad...”: 65. La ideología cruzada pontifical refería la necesidad de “recuperar”, “liberar”, “devolver” e incidió en otros discursos orientados a fijar la legalidad de la conquista de las tierras musulmanas, García Fitz, Francisco. La reconquista...: 94-95. 35. Ricerca Lingüística. “Liber Maiolichinus de gestis pissanorum illustribus”. 1 septiembre 2001. Laboratori Linguística. Università di Pisa. 16 Diciembre 2014. : 8 (verso 87), 11 (verso 147), 17 (verso 271), 44 (verso 172), 54 (verso 23), 59 (verso 166), 63 (verso 295), 96 (verso 50), 91 (verso 325): aquí bellum se usa como guerra. 36. En el siglo X castellano, el ejército refería era “el conjunto de los magnates con sus entornos militares” y constituye un claro precedente a la utilización del término visto aquí, aunque con las lógicas variaciones cronológicas y territoria- les, Isla, Amancio. Ejército, sociedad y política en la península Ibérica entre los siglos VII y XI. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa y Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2010: 192. 37. Expediciones dirigidas contra las tierras andalusíes se llamaron ejércitos: Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 632-633 (doc. nº 479) (1188). 38. Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 88-89 (números 63, 64, 65) y 108 (número 124), en el último se decía de los príncipes —es decir los condes de Barcelona—, ibi mandarent hostes quibus irent ad destruendam Yspaniam. Se recuperaban principios del pensamiento político romano, y el emperador y sus oficiales tenían el derecho de hacer la guerra según San Agustín, France, John. Western Warfare...: 40. 39. El análisis de este proceso, aquí sólo enunciado, Bonet, Maria. Organizing Violence: Peace and War in Twelfth Century Catalonia, en prensa. 40. In servicium Dei et auxilium exercitus ad exercitum Hispaniam, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1019-1020 (doc. nº 608) y 1020-1021 (doc. nº 609) (1128).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 461 conforme a la envergadura del asedio y a la importancia de la alianza, ya que no hay referencia a 41 nglish prestaciones con máquinas de guerra en otros acuerdos . A la par, el conde declaró que iría con su

E ejército42. Desde mediados del siglo XII, también se usó la locución “hacer ejército” como sinónimo in de hueste43. Básicamente, el conde de Barcelona podía formar dichos ejércitos, configurados por contingentes diversos, como por ejemplo los templarios44. La preparación y el desarrollo de las conquistas fueron extraordinarios militar y políticamente. ubmitted El proceso comportó la superación del concepto de dominio militar por parte de modestos grupos S armados aristocráticos. Así, en los prolegómenos de la conquista de Lleida en 1147, el conde Ra- n o t mon Berenguer IV animó la presencia de cien hombres en Almenar, que era una punta de lanza en el avance hacia Lleida. El propósito militar era principal en el cometido repoblador y reclamó una exts

T cifra elevada de hombres, la exigencia de vigilancias —guaitas— y el avituallamiento para dos días 45 the en caso de guerra . La conquista estaba en ciernes y las necesidades militares postergaron el pago

o f de los censos hasta la conquista en pro de la ocupación militar del sitio.

A veces, el conde Ramon Berenguer IV retribuyó a nobles que habían participado en sus ejérci- tos. Pere de Puigvert le reclamó un pago por haber concurrido con diez caballeros en el ejército que

riginals había ido a Lorca, a razón de 30 morabetinos mensuales por cada uno. Sin embargo, el conde de O Barcelona se defendió diciendo que le había pagado46. Bernat de Anglesola acusó al conde de ha- berlo convocado a un ejército que había ido a Aragón, donde había perdido muchos bienes. Ramon Berenguer IV lo negó47. También, pagó a combatientes especializados, como los ballesteros, aunque no eran muchos48. El liderazgo condal en estas empresas militares se apuntaló gracias a que pudo pagar prestaciones militares más allá de los lazos personales. La capacidad financiera del conde era superior a la de otros señores, en gran medida por la disponibilidad de recursos de las parias, que dedicó a la actividad y dominación militar. Así, prometió el pago de 1.000 morabetinos a los hospi- talarios para levantar una fortaleza en Amposta, en las bocas del Ebro, y al conde de Urgell 2.000 y 1.000 morabetinos antes y después de la conquista de Lleida, además de una parte de las parias49. Los cambios militares se produjeron al aumentar la presión en los territorios fronterizos, con las conquistas de mediados de siglo XII y claramente tras ocupar las tierras o ciudades de la Cataluña Nueva, que obligó a nuevas fórmulas de organización política y militar. En este sentido, la auto- ridad condal de Barcelona delegó la competencia de mantener la paz y hacer la guerra a personas destacadas en los espacios conquistados o fronterizos. Se había arrogado dicha función, y sin em-

41. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 337-339 (doc. nº 144). Hay varias referencias al ejército, y alguna específica al ejército condal. 42. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 332-334 (doc. nº 141). Los genoveses también se comprometían en una futura empresa para conquistar las Baleares. 43. En Tarragona teóricamente todos los caballeros y hombres faciant tibi exercitus et cavalcatas a Ramon Berenguer IV, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1511-1516 (doc. nº 941) (1151). 44. Cuatro caballeros hicieron hermandad con el Temple, integrándose a los ejércitos condales “contra los musulmanes”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1354-1356 (doc. nº 833)­ (1145). 45. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 104-106 (doc. nº 64) (1147). 46. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. nº 99). 47. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 339-343 (doc. nº 145). 48. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1785 (doc. nº 1114). 49. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. nº 54).

462 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 bargo la delegó, incluso en lugares donde supuestamente estaba desplegando su autoridad50. De

esta manera, el conde Ramon Berenguer III emplazó al conde de Pallars a velar por la paz y la gue- n gl is h rra en 1098, antes de la infructuosa conquista de Tortosa; y su hijo, Ramon Berenguer IV al conde E in de Montpellier al concederle Tortosa en 1136 y al conde de Urgell, al darle Lleida, antes de ambas conquistas51. El rey Alfonso el Casto mandó “hacer la paz y la guerra” a Ponç de Lillet al concederle Ascó en 1183 y explícitamente con los musulmanes al dar Alcañiz a la orden de Calatrava en 1179 o Villel al Santo Redentor en 118752. De forma similar, Ramón Berenguer III había encomendado ubm i tted S a los habitantes de Tarragona a “tener su paz y hacer la guerra”53. no t En contraste, en las cartas de población de Tortosa y Lleida no se plantearon este tipo de exigen- cias, sino la fidelidad al conde y la contención de la violencia feudal a través de la imposición de la e x t s 54 justicia . Los habitantes de Lleida afirmaban que ayudarían a los condes a conservar y a tener la T

ciudad, mediante una fórmula parecida a la que pronunciaba un vasallo a su señor, pero sin refe- the

rencia a la obligación militar. La pacificación era una necesidad en las ciudades ocupadas. Además, o f desde las décadas centrales del siglo XII, las exigencias de hacer la guerra dirigidas al vasallo casi desaparecieron en infeudaciones o juramentos de fidelidad, que coincidió con el afianzamiento

del movimiento pacificador. La autoridad condal o regia se fue apropiando de la idea pacificadora r i g in al s impulsada inicialmente por los obispos, y pasó de los espacios o jurisdicciones privadas a todo el O territorio bajo la autoridad condal o del rey. Alfonso el Casto impuso la paz general en el territorio catalán en 1173, porqué según decía competía al príncipe; bella sedare, pacem stablire55. La posición preeminente del conde de Barcelona o del rey de Aragón en la administración de la paz y la guerra se concretó en el establecimiento de relaciones de poder con líderes políticos peninsulares y otros. Ramon Berenguer IV y el rey Alfonso se atribuyeron la negociación de la paz y la guerra en diversos acuerdos con los reyes de Castilla o de Navarra56. El tratado de Tudillén de 1151 entre el conde de Barcelona y el rey de Castilla, Alfonso VII, se definía como “paz verdadera” y “concordia perpetua”. Se repartieron los territorios a conquistar en Al-Ándalus, en consonancia con el hecho que esas expediciones se ejecutarían bajo sendas autoridades políticas57. Otras concor-

50. El conde de Barcelona infeudó Pujols Rubials a Berenguer Arnal, encargándole per me facias inde pacem et guerram Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 93-94, (doc. nº 93) (1139). En 1191, Ramon de Cervera se comprometió a hacer paz y guerra en el castillo de Arbesa infeudado por el rey: Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: (doc. nº 538) (1191); Otro compromiso, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 557-558 (doc. nº 420) (1185). 51. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II: 580-581 (doc. nº 296); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 53-54 (doc. nº 22) y Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. nº 54). 52. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 503-504 (doc. nº 376): et faciatis inde pacem et guerram per nos; y Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 375-376 (doc. nº 279), 599-601 (doc. nº 453) —respectivamente—. 53. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 82-84 (doc. nº 49), 1118. 54. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 121-126 (doc. nº 75) (1149) y 129-132 (doc. nº 79) (1150). 55. Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva de Catalunya (segles XI-XIII). Barcelona: Generalitat de Cataluña, 1994: 74-82 (doc. nº 15) y una proclama equivalente de Pedro el Católico, 114-125 (doc. nº 20) (1200). El rey superó la tradición pacificadora atribuida a situaciones concretas, y se valió de la base bíblica de la ideología cristiana referente a la monarquía, Bisson, Thomas. The Crisis of the Twelfth Century. Power, Lordship and the Origins of European Government. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009: 499-505. 56. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 64-65 (doc. nº 28) (1139), 142-144 (doc. nº 60) (1149), 239-241 (doc. nº 91) (1156), 243-247 (doc. nº 95) (1158), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...:, 1425-1427 (doc. nº 884) (1149) y Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 97-99 (doc. nº 58) (1168). 57. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 168-174 (doc. nº 62).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 463 dias o “paces” fueron alcanzadas entre los reyes de Castilla y Aragón, donde definían sus ámbitos 58 nglish de influencia y actualizaban su cooperación militar contra los musulmanes y el rey de Navarra .

E La paz y la cooperación entre los líderes cristianos crearon las condiciones para la ejecución de in las grandes empresas militares y el reparto de las áreas de las futuras conquistas. Sin embargo, cabe destacar el liderazgo del rey castellano en el concierto peninsular de los reyes y líderes cristianos. Se manifestó especialmente en tiempos del emperador Alfonso VII, quien obtuvo el vasallaje de ubmitted García Ramírez de Navarra, Ramon Berenguer IV de Barcelona y de Alfonso I de Portugal, en S determinados momentos. Sin duda, la superior capacidad militar de Castilla contribuyó a cierta n o t preponderancia de dicho reino59. Más allá del marco peninsular, Ramon Berenguer IV y Alfonso el Casto desplegaron una importante actividad diplomática ligada a su preeminencia militar y po- exts

T lítica con otros destacados poderes políticos. Sirva de ejemplo la alianza militar entre el conde de

the Barcelona y el rey de Inglaterra en 1159 en contra del conde Toulouse en el marco de su política

60 o f occitana. Se tradujo en un asedio infructuoso a Toulouse .

La guerra feudal siguió siendo fundamental a la hora de dirimir la autoridad en el territorio, aunque la pacificación, el recurso a la justicia y, sobre todo, las nuevas necesidades generadas por

riginals las conquistas forzaron la progresiva limitación de las acciones violentas bajo la autoridad política O emergente. Las medidas pacificadoras coexistieron con el derecho a la guerra en el territorio por parte de los señores y la convivencia de sendos modelos generó contradicciones. En una dispo- sición del rey Alfonso destinada a pacificar todos los caminos de Cataluña, establecía un par de excepciones. Así la paz en los caminos se podía alterar si había guerra entre caballeros y por las acciones llevadas a cabo por los señores en cuyos dominios estaban dichos caminos61. Por tanto, la legislación pacificadora aceptaba la guerra feudal y los abusos de los señores en sus ámbitos juris- diccionales, aunque, a su vez, perseguía pacificar las vías de comunicación.

3. Liderazgo militar y político

La aristocracia catalana se reorganizó y fijó sus relaciones mediante juramentos de fidelidad o “conveniencias” durante el siglo XII, que fortalecieron a los principales linajes, como el de los condes de Barcelona o de los vizcondes de Cardona62. Había otras fórmulas de acuerdo, como la

58. Liber Feudorum Maior, ed. Francisco Miquel. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1945: I, 47- 48 (doc. nº 33) (1170) y 48-49 (doc. nº 34), 49-51 (doc. nº 35) o tratado de Cazorla (1179); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 56-58 (doc. nº 4) (1162), 564-569 (doc. nº 426) (1186) y 593-594 (doc. nº 448) (1187). En 1170, el compromiso era super et contra omnes christianos, preter regem Anglie, Liber Feudorum Maior: 45-47 (doc. nº 32). Del total de dieciocho tra- tados alcanzados por el rey castellano Alfonso VIII, ocho se firmaron con el rey de Aragón, Estepa, Carlos. “El reinado de Alfonso VIII. Los horizontes peninsulares”, Las Navas de Tolosa (1212-2012). Miradas cruzadas, Patrice Cressier, Vicente Salvatierra, eds. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén, 2014: 211-220; 214-215. Sin duda, las relaciones entre ambas monarquías fueron principales entre los poderes cristianos peninsulares. 59. Pascua, Esther. Guerra y pacto en el siglo XII. La consolidación de un sistema de reinos en Europa occidental. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1996: 140. Tal predominio conllevó una intensa actividad frente al-Andalús, no sólo militar, sino también política, García Fitz, Francisco. Relaciones políticas y guerra. La experiencia castellano-leonesa frente a el Islam. Siglos XI-XIII. Sevilla: Universidad de Sevilla, 2002. 60. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirenenca de Barcelona i de la Corona d’Aragó: guerra, política i diploma- cia”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Manuel Riu, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: 56-59. 61. Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva...: 15, XI. 62. Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia: Power, Order, and the Written Word, 1000-1200. Cambridge- Nueva York: Cambridge University Press, 2001: 221-222.

464 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 llamada “pacificación”, a veces identificada con una tregua, que restableció relaciones entre los se-

ñores y, significativamente, entre los magnates catalanes. Además, la pacificación zanjó diferencias n gl is h entre miembros de la aristocracia territorial63. Dichas soluciones terminaron con confrontaciones E in feudales, a menudo ocasionadas por propiedades o jurisdicciones64. Los acuerdos de pacificación encajaron en el movimiento pacificador, que fue impulsado desde varios niveles del poder político, como los eclesiásticos, los condes y las ciudades, con medidas legales y judiciales. Los poderes más destacados ampliaron su liderazgo mediante los procesos de pacificación, aun- ubm i tted S que solían contener soluciones militares, como sucedió con el conde de Barcelona. Así, Ramon no t Berenguer III afianzó su poder en el vizcondado de Béziers mediante “pacificación”, y prometió a Bernat Ató, vizconde, ayudarlo militarmente contra otros señores principales, el conde de Tolosa e x t s 65 o el rey de Aragón y en la reconquista de sitios como Carcasona o Rases . En otra pacificación T 66 de 1127, el conde impuso condiciones a Ponç II, conde de Empúries, para corregir sus abusos . the

Sus hombres habían cometido atropellos en contra de la Iglesia de Girona, o de los viajeros proce- o f dentes del condado de Barcelona, como los que iban a la feria de Peralada. La paz estaba asociada al patrimonio eclesiástico y a lugares concretos como los caminos, y de ahí la penalización de los

actos referidos, que eran contrarios a la paz. El conde de Empúries debía pagar una multa de 3.000 r i g in al s sueldos para mantener la tregua, destruir el castillo que había levantado en Castelló de Empúries, O y entregar rehenes como garantes del cumplimiento67. Diez años después, el conde de Barcelona y el de Empúries alcanzaron otra “pacificación”, tras la ruptura de treguas y acusaciones cruzadas68. Otro acuerdo de pacificación alcanzado por los dignatarios de los dos condados de Pallars con- firma la necesidad de concordia entre los magnates. El conde de Urgell, Ermengol VI, y el de Barcelona, garantizaron dicho pacto, que advierte de su liderazgo en el seno de la alta aristocra- cia catalana69. Artal II y su hermano del Pallars Sobirà y Bernat Ramon del Pallars Jussà habían actuado de forma abusiva en los territorios vecinos, quienes acordaron no sustraerse nada más y restaurar sus jurisdicciones. Parece que la presión del rey de Aragón contribuyó a que cerrasen filas en beneficio de la paz70. Las paces o treguas no siempre se respetaron, y en Cerdanya el vizconde Arnau de Castellbó y Arnau de Saga asaltaron con sus caballeros unos veinticinco lugares, donde saquearon, robaron, secuestraron e incendiaron en 1188. La región estaba sujeta a una paz general y el rey la impuso de

63. Diversos señores alcanzaron una “paz verdadera y concordia” para zanjar las hostilidades por el castillo de Mon- targull, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 879-880 (doc. nº 523) (1120); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II: 907-915 (doc. nº 543) (1122); o Galcerà de Sales y Bernat de Romanyà en 1183, Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia...: 100. 64. Se definía como pacificación la renuncia de bienes hecha por Pere Ramon a favor del Temple,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1550-1551 (doc. nº 954), (1153) u otro semejante, 1622-1624 (doc. nº 1009) (1157). 65. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 755-757 (doc. nº 425 y 426), (1112). Entre otros beneficios, el conde de Barcelona recibió doce castillos en feudo. 66. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. nº 595) (1127). 67. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. nº 595), 982-985 (doc. nº 596), 985 (doc. nº 597) (1127) y Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1004-1005 (doc. nº 599), Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 55-57 (doc. nº 23). 68. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1209-1211 (doc. nº 733). 69. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 938-941 (doc. nº 563) (1112-1124) y 942 (doc. nº 565). El conde de Urgell se comprometió a socorrer al del Pallars Jussà si el otro conde incumplía el pacto. 70. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 942 (doc. nº 565) (1112-1124).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 465 nuevo tras estos episodios71. A veces, y pese a las referencias a queremoniae o conflictividad armada,

nglish el señor restableció la autoridad del vasallo dándole nuevas prerrogativas o exigiéndole compen-

E saciones por los daños causados por las guerras72. La fórmula de la pacificación cedió ante las solu- in ciones judiciales a mediados de siglo. En la segunda mitad del XII, el conde Ramon Berenguer IV dirimió sus diferencias con figuras nobiliarias destacadas en procesos judiciales, como con Guillem Ramon de Montcada, su senescal, Pere de Puigvert y Bernat de Anglesola por citar algunos, que ubmitted era el resultado de su liderazgo73. Las pugnas o reivindicaciones del conde y del rey afectaban a las S tierras conquistadas o regiones de la Marca, de Tortosa, de Lleida y de Tarragona, donde habían n o t desplegado cierta autoridad militar. Los preparativos y, sobre todo, los desarrollos de las conquistas de mediados de siglo afianzaron exts

T el rol principal de la casa de Barcelona. Los proyectos de conquista impulsados desde el condado de

the Barcelona evolucionaron de forma significativa y radical, con arreglo a los cambios militares de la

o f época. En una fase primera de dichos planes de conquista, el conde de Barcelona confió en otros

condes la posible ocupación de Tarragona y Tortosa en el siglo XI. Esta orientación cambió y ya en el XII, el conde de Barcelona persiguió diversas alianzas con potencias marítimas italianas y con

riginals otros poderes emergentes como las órdenes militares. El reforzamiento militar impulsado por el O conde barcelonés respondía a la necesidad de combatir a los almorávides, enemigos militarmente muy poderosos. Sólo su caída y el acuerdo de Ramón Berenguer IV con Ibn Mardanís allanaron el terreno para las conquistas de Tortosa y Lleida74. Dadas estas circunstancias, el papel de la aristocra- cia territorial en las conquistas quedó relegado y sometido al conde. De este modo, estas dos ciu- dades se tomaron con el concurso de ejércitos plurales, máquinas, ayudas militares extraordinarias y tras asedios que duraron unos meses75. La conquista de Tortosa (1148) fue el hito principal en el terreno militar, que proporcionó al conde una autoridad política desconocida hasta entonces. La empresa fue un despliegue bélico inédito en los condados catalanes, que se produjo en el contexto de la segunda cruzada en Occidente. En este sentido, implicó la presencia de guerreros procedentes del Occidente feudal, como la armada genovesa y fue necesario el uso de maquinaria de guerra76.

71. Bisson, Charles. “The War of the Two Arnaus: A memorial of the Broken Peace in Cerdanya (1188)”, Miscel·lània en homenatge al P. Agustí Altisent. Tarragona: Diputació de Tarragona, 1991: 95-107 y Gonzalvo, Gener. Les constitucions de pau i treva...: 17 (1188). 72. En la pacificación entre Berenguer Ramon de Castellet y su señor, Ramon Berenguer III, el vasallo recibió rentas en Barcelona, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 779-780 (doc. nº 445) (1113). A veces, el vasallo restableció el dominio en algún bien patrimonial objeto de controversia, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1148-1150 (doc. nº 692) (1135). Ramon Berenguer III restituyó a su vasallo Ramon Gausbert en el castillo de Arraona al “pacifi- carlo”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 788-789 (doc. nº 452), o relacionados 453, 454 y 455 (1113). A veces, el vasallo compensó al señor por daños causados por las guerras, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 824-825 (doc. nº 481) (1117). 73. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1752-1753 (doc. nº 1095), 1753-1760 (doc. nº 1096) y 1760-1764 (doc. nº 1097) Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. nº 99); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 339-343 (doc. nº 145). Otras querimoniae, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1693-1696 (doc. nº 1056) (1160). 74. Guichard, Pierre. Al-Andalus frente a la conquista cristiana. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2001: 134. Para la crisis del régimen almorávide ver las páginas 116-133. 75. El asedio de una ciudad era un episodio militar de gran envergadura, y en el caso peninsular los asedios a ciudades andalusíes fueron cruciales para la conquista de amplias regiones, y finalmente para las victorias más trascendentes frente el Islam peninsular, García, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras...”: 328-331. 76. Sobre el desarrollo occidental de la segunda cruzada con episodios como las conquistas de Lisboa y Tortosa, así como la empresa de Almería, Constable, Giles. “The Second Crusade as seen by Contemporaries”. Traditio, 9 (1953): 213-279, aunque ha sido un tema controvertido. La empresa de Almería reunió todas las consignas cruzadas, inclusive prepon- derando su seguimiento a la presencia en Ultramar, Baloup, Daniel. “Reconquête et croisade dans la Chronica Adefonsi Imperatoris (ca. 1150)”. Cahiers de Civilisation et Linguistique Hispaniques Médiévales, 25 (2002): 453-480. La implicación

466 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 Ramon Berenguer III había confiado la conquista de Tortosa al conde de Pallars en 1097, que

fue infructuosa, y años más tarde el conde de Barcelona se incorporó a la conquista de las Baleares n gl is h gracias a una alianza con Pisa. Esta expedición, en la que el Papa había dado la cruz a los pisanos E in tenía el propósito de terminar con la captura de cristianos y los perjuicios al comercio que los mu- sulmanes infringían a los pisanos desde Mallorca. Según la crónica pisana, la adhesión del conde de Barcelona fue accidental77. En ella se nombraba a Ramon Berenguer III como dux catalanensis, rector Catalanicus hostes, y él y el conde de Empúries, eran llamados —héroe catalán—78. Sin embargo, ubm i tted S el conde de Empúries no estaba en el séquito de Ramón Berenguer III al alcanzar el acuerdo con no t los pisanos79. Quizás encabezaron grupos militares distintos, o al menos se constata la existencia de dos líderes al frente de los catalanes, quienes tenían una tensa relación. Con todo, el conde de e x t s

Barcelona aparecía como líder militar catalán principal. T

La conquista de Mallorca fue efímera. Sin embargo, este episodio y los proyectos de Tortosa y the

Lleida son elocuentes de los intereses del condado de Barcelona, movidos por los intereses mercan- o f tiles de Barcelona y la rivalidad con el reino de Aragón para alcanzar las dos ciudades. No se trataba de ocupar cualquier territorio y los objetivos militares habían sido escogidos concienzudamente.

Casi con toda seguridad, estas empresas no se habrían alcanzado sólo con la ayuda de la aristocracia r i g in al s territorial, y se llevaron a cabo con el concurso de otros ejércitos. En este contexto de necesidad O de mayores efectivos militares, se explica la petición de ayuda al rey de Sicilia hecha por Ramon Berenguer III en 1128. El monarca se comprometió a aportar cincuenta naves y un “ejército de ayuda”, y a cambio, el conde la mitad de lo que conquistasen80. En el contexto de colaboración con las potencias marítimas mediterráneas, el conde estableció un pacto con Génova, según el que los genoveses podrían transitar, hacer estancia en sus tierras, y de forma significativa la “paz y guerra” a los musulmanes81. Al parecer, Ramón Berenguer III entendía que el éxito de la actividad militar dependía de la ayuda técnica de los italianos, como finalmente sucedió con la participación de los genoveses en la conquista de Tortosa. El conde de Barcelona estableció otros acuerdos en beneficio de poderes foráneos, prescindió con ello en parte, de sus nobles, e incluso cercenó indirectamente los posibles beneficios de magna- tes como el conde de Urgell. Entre estos, fue singular el pacto alcanzado por Ramon Berenguer III con el alcaide andalusí de Lleida, Avifiel. El alcaide se comprometió a librarle diversos castillos en la región de Lleida y a convertirse en su vasallo, con la posibilidad de disponer de honores en Lleida o Barcelona. Además, se ofreció a “ayudarle” militarmente en las empresas de Tortosa y de otros lugares andalusíes, repartiéndose las parias. Tales soluciones muestran la curiosa integración del

genovesa, la presencia “internacional” y la magnitud del asedio en la versión genovesa: Caffaro di Rustico. De Captione Almerie et Tortuose. Valencia: Anubar, 1973. 77. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa amb els estats italians en els segles XI i XII”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa a l’edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Manuel Riu, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009: 162-163 y 289-291 (doc. nº 37). 78. Liber Maiolichinus...: 68 (verso 89), 76 (verso 304), 82 (verso 46), 91 (verso 326). 79. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 289-291 (doc. nº 37). 80. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 300-302 (doc. nº 44). El acuerdo estaba todavía en la memoria del rey Alfonso, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 345-346 (doc. nº 255) (1178). 81. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 297-298 (doc. nº 41) y más sobre los vínculos con Génova, Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona...”: 175. Se envió una embajada a Palermo para tal propósito.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 467 líder musulmán a las políticas cristianas82. Sin embargo, Avifiel debía estar preparando su marcha

nglish a Mallorca, puesto que el conde se comprometió a proporcionarle veinte naves para el transporte

E de doscientos caballeros entre cristianos y musulmanes83. La referencia refleja la existencia de una in armada bajo la autoridad del conde de Barcelona. Ramon Berenguer III prometió la mitad de las tierras andalusíes conquistadas al rey de Sicilia. Años después, en 1143, su hijo Ramon Berenguer IV, concedió al Temple la quinta parte de cuanto ubmitted se conquistase, y luego la décima parte a los hospitalarios en 115784. También había ofrecido a los S genoveses un tercio de cuanto tomasen85. El conde de Barcelona confiaba una parte de lo conquis- n o t tado a sus refuerzos militares. Esta fórmula de reparto, a favor de los implicados en las conquistas, era distinta a la tradicional de infeudar sitios antes de la conquista empleada por los condes y otros exts

T líderes militares. Además, el conde escogió poderes e instituciones que eran ajenos a los intereses

the locales, y lo hizo en detrimento de las aristocracias de la región. La donación al Temple, e incluso al

o f Hospital, surgió como resarcimiento por la pérdida de derechos político en el reino de Aragón; pero

las órdenes pronto cumplieron con los objetivos de lucha contra los musulmanes. Así, los institutos militares fueron implicados como agentes de la autoridad condal o del rey en conquistas, así como

riginals en las ocupaciones de tierras conquistadas. Su cometido específico de luchar contra los musulma- O nes favoreció su incorporación en las expediciones, que era consecuente a la consideración especial de las mismas86. En este sentido, la identidad cruzada fue también reivindicada como un signo de distinción del poder condal y, en especial, de su carisma militar. Ya en 1113, Ramon Berenguer III había tomado la cruz del arzobispo de Pisa y su hijo, Ramon Berenguer IV, expresó su cometido cruzado en la solución impuesta a los templarios en 114387. La idea de especialización o especificidad militar se abrió camino y favoreció la implicación de agentes militares libres de intereses familiares o patrimoniales, ya fuesen las órdenes militares, la armada pisana, siciliana o genovesa. El arzobispo de Tarragona tenía una intención parecida cuan- do confió la ocupación de Tarragona a un caballero normando. De este modo, el prelado prescindió de los linajes consolidados en las inmediaciones de la ciudad, como los Claramunt, que pronto se convirtieron en enemigos. Además encomendó al vasallo normando la lucha en defensa de la Cristiandad, con claras resonancias cruzadas, y de este modo, el pacto se forjó más allá de un mero acuerdo feudovasallático88. Existía la necesidad de alcanzar una mayor eficacia militar, y a su vez restringir la actividad de los linajes de implantación territorial. Así sucedió en territorios como el valiato de Siurana. Tras su conquista, el conde lideró la repoblación y marginó a la familia de los

82. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: 882-883 (doc. nº 525) (1120): et de Tortosa et de alia Hispania sit illi aiu- dadors. Et hoc quod alcahaid voluerit habere de his, habeat per manum comitem. 83. Propter hoc convenit predictus comes iamdictus alcahaid ut habeat illi viginti galeas et de gobars tantos ut possit alchaid mittere ducentos cavallos inter christianos et sarracenos et passat illorum ad Maiorcas. 84. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. nº 43) y Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1660-1662 (doc. nº 1028), respectivamente. 85. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 309-314 (doc. nº 51) (circa 1146). 86. Ad exercendum officium milicie in regione Ispanie contra sarracenos, Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. nº 43). 87. Se decía del conde: sanctissime crucis signum a Petro reverentissimo Pisanensi...archiepiscopo...suo humero susceperat, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 300-302 (doc. nº 44) y Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 93-99 (doc. nº 43). Tal identifi- cación del conde con el movimiento cruzado encontró el refuerzo pontifical poco antes y algo después de la conquista de Tortosa, Bonet Donato, Maria. Organizing Violence... 88. In defensionem Chistianitatis militiam exerceas, Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 87-89 (doc. nº 51) (1129).

468 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 Cervera, que señoreaba la región vecina y había participado en la misma conquista de Siurana 89

(1153-1154) . n gl is h

El conde de Barcelona desplegó diversas políticas para involucrar a los nobles catalanes en las E in conquistas. Estas respondieron a la afirmación de su liderazgo en el proceso de gestación de las empresas, al interés por fomentar los linajes afines y mermar la proyección de otros. Asimismo, al- canzó compromisos para asegurar su preeminencia militar y vincular a algunos magnates catalanes en las principales empresas. A veces, logró que algunos le reconociesen como señor de las regiones ubm i tted S de Lleida o Tortosa una vez conquistadas, como hiciese el hostil conde de Empúries. Además, en el no t acuerdo de 1130, Ponç II de Empúries pactó que le ayudaría militarmente. Sin embargo, el conde de Barcelona no tenía previsto beneficiarle, como hizo con otros miembros de la aristocracia, que e x t s le eran fieles. Ponç no era una persona de su entorno, y ambos dejaban atrás una serie de conflic- T 90 tos, que se recrudecieron más tarde . En las “conveniencias” de la primera mitad del siglo XII, los the

nobles catalanes confirmaron su vinculación al conde de Barcelona. Expresaron su compromiso en o f ayudarle a conservar las parias que recibía de tierras andalusíes, e incluso las tierras que pudiese conquistar. Era una fórmula distinta a las características de los pactos feudovasalláticos y con ella,

los vasallos reconocían la potestad condal en la obtención de las parias y en la administración de r i g in al s las conquistas91. O El conde de Barcelona alcanzó acuerdos específicos con señores importantes para las empresas militares de Tortosa y de Lleida, y prevaleció su liderazgo entre los magnates. Ramon Berenguer IV concedió la ciudad y las fortificaciones de Tortosa a Guillermo de Montpellier como feudo en 1136, a cambio de su implicación militar bajo su mando92. Diez años más tarde, otorgó a su senescal, Gui- llem Ramon de Montcada, la tercera parte de Tortosa y de las Baleares93. Sin embargo, la conquista de Tortosa sólo se ejecutó gracias a la incorporación de contingentes procedentes de lugares lejanos y, muy claramente, con el concurso naval y militar genovés. Ramon Berenguer IV formalizó un acuerdo con Génova para la conquista de Tortosa y las Baleares en 1146, justamente cuando la ciudad alcanzó otro convenio con el rey de Castilla para conquistar Almería94. En el pacto, el conde

89. Bonet, Maria. “Las dependencias personales y las prestaciones económicas en la expansión feudal en la Cataluña Nueva”. Hispania, 66/223 (2006): 425-482; 437-477. 90. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1046-1048 (doc. nº 628) (1130): Poncius comes... Raimundo comiti... adiutor sit... honore... de ipsa Fraga et de Lerida... ad Tortuosam. De istis civitatibus... comes Barchinonensis habet... predictus Pon- cius... sit... fidelis adiutor ad tenere et aprehendere, conquirere atque defendere. 91. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 644-645 (doc. nº 349) (1104); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, (doc. nº 363) (1106); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 726-729 (doc. nº 402) y 729-731 (doc. nº 403) (1110): sobre las parias: de ipsas paries de Hispania quas hodie habes... sunt tibi et... adhuc adquisiturus est, Deo dante, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 740-741 (doc. nº 413) (1111); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 968-969 (doc. nº 587) (1126). Joan de Sanmartí juraba al conde que le ayudaría a defender todo lo que tenía o tendría en Yspania, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 844-845 (doc. nº 496). Guerau Alemany de Cervelló juró fidelidad al conde en los términos:Et convenit quod adiuet eum fideliter tenere omnem honorem suum non solum in christianitate sed etiam in Ispania, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1352-1353 (doc. nº 832) (1145). Un vasallo del conde, Deusdat, debía ir a cobrar las parias por encargo del conde de Barcelona, quien le concedía la décima parte y bienes en Valencia quando Deus dederit ei de terris Ispanie, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1155- 1157 (doc. nº 696) (1136). 92. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1185-1186 (doc. nº 718) (1136). 93. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1379-1380 (doc. nº 852). 94. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 309-318 (doc. nº 51 y 52). El acuerdo se habría producido un mes más tarde al del Montcada, que refleja como las soluciones condales con el senescal y los genoveses eran complementarias, un tercio para cada uno de los tres.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 469 de Barcelona se refería al de los genoveses con Alfonso VII, y precisaba que atacarían Tortosa y las

nglish Baleares a su regreso de Almería. Era, en cierto modo, un compromiso a tres bandas.

E Los acuerdos permitirían a los genovesos disponer de colonias para su consolidación comer- in cial en el Mediterráneo occidental, y a cambio aseguraban el liderazgo a los dirigentes militares peninsulares95. La alianza condal con los genoveses contaba con la firma de las máximas figuras de la nobleza catalana, que reconocían el acuerdo y mando del conde. Los genoveses se situaron ubmitted bajo su autoridad, ya que sólo asediarían ciudades desde el Ebro hasta Almería con su permiso, y S el conde obtendría dos terceras partes de lo conquistado. Al final de la contienda, con una decisiva n o t participación de los genoveses, la ciudad quedó repartida en tres partes, y el conde afianzó su posi- ción mediante las fórmulas de partición y la incorporación de personas fieles al frente de la ciudad, exts

T como el senescal Montcada y los templarios. Finalmente, adquirió la parte de los genoveses, que

the refleja como el liderazgo militar condal favoreció tradujo en dominación política en las tierras

96 o f conquistadas .

Antes de la conquista de Lleida, el conde de Urgell se había posicionado tácticamente en los contornos de la ciudad de Lleida, con ánimo de ejecutar la conquista. Dicha aproximación del

riginals conde se produjo mediante infeudaciones en el Pla d’Urgell o lugares próximos a Lleida. Mediante O estas, sus vasallos quedaron implicados en las tareas militares, o simplemente asentó su autoridad renovando los vínculos vasalláticos con señores destacados. El reforzamiento militar de la región fue incentivado por señores poderosos en los años previos a la conquista, y significativamente por Ermengol VI de Urgell. Así, por ejemplo, el conde concedió una “torre destruida” en Bellcaire, con la obligación de reconstruirla por parte de los beneficiarios. Como situación extraordinaria, les permitió disfrutar de una renta para financiar la defensa frente a los musulmanes durante la construcción de la fortificación o hasta la conquista de Lleida97. En los prolegómenos de la conquista de Lleida, el conde de Barcelona, fijó un pacto vasallático con el conde de Urgell que le proporcionó el liderazgo militar en dicha empresa y en la dominación de la ciudad. A partir del acuerdo y tras la conquista, Ramon Berenguer IV laminó la autoridad de Ermengol VI porque convirtió la región, que era el ámbito de expansión del condado de Urgell, en una conquista del condado de Barcelona98. El conde barcelonés identificó las conquistas como territorios de su autoridad y con un carácter diferenciado, militar y fronterizo, que se tradujo en su intitulación como marqués de Lleida y de Tortosa. Es una titulación que puede contener connota- ciones militares dentro de su sentido honorífico, especialmente porque coetáneamente el sistema tradicional de condados está llegando a su obsolescencia.99 La realidad asimétrica de la relación entre los dos condes se concretó en una serie de compensaciones que el barcelonés proporcionó al

95. El despliegue mercantil y naval de los genoveses en el Mediterráneo occidental topó con los enemigos musulma- nes, quienes amenazaban sus contactos mercantiles con Provenza y Cataluña. Además, Pisa, rival por antonomasia de los intereses ligures, había establecido un tratado mercantil con Almería en 1133. Una serie de asaltos genoveses al norte de África y Almería se combinaron con pactos políticos como los referidos u otros con Marsella, Antibes y otras ciudades, Montesano, Marina. “La guerra dei genovesi nel Mediterraneo: da Gerusalemme alla presa di Almeria e Tortosa (secc. XI-XIII)”, Regards croisés sur la guerre sainte, Daniel Baloup, Philippe Josserand, dirs. Toulouse: Casa de Velázquez y Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 2006: 255-275; 272 y 273. Este es el contexto en el que debe comprenderse el pacto con el conde de Barcelona. 96. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1563-1564 (doc. nº 963), 1564-1566 (doc. nº 964) (1153). 97. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 93-94 (doc. nº 56). 98. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 126-129 (doc. nº 54). 99. Sabaté, Flocel. El territori de la Catalunya medieval. Barcelona: Fundació Salvador Vives Casajuana, 1997: 30-41.

470 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 conde de Urgell. Los grandes desarrollos bélicos respondieron a los intereses y objetivos plantea-

dos desde el condado de Barcelona. La conquista de Tortosa, siendo la más difícil, fue la primera, n gl is h puesto que era la más necesaria y la más interesante en términos económicos. Vendría después la E in de Lleida, y finalmente la de Siurana. El proyecto de conquistar Mallorca estuvo presente a lo largo del siglo, como en algunos momentos sucedió con el de Valencia, según advertía el rey Alfonso el Casto en 1176. Este conjunto de victorias contrasta con las dificultades que el conde de Barcelona tuvo para imponerse en territorios, donde imperaron los señores locales, a veces manteniendo ubm i tted S conflictos armados y otras simplemente dominando. no t Algunos linajes regionales buscaron alianzas o fidelidades vasalláticas y consolidaron su potes- tad, también antes de las conquistas, como en la Conca de Barberà, la Baixa Segarra, las Garrigas, e e x t s incluso en el Camp de Tarragona. Las nuevas condiciones de seguridad derivadas de la conquista de T

Tortosa y Lleida cambiaron este panorama o, al menos, favorecieron las divergencias con nuevos the

agentes políticos. Dichas diferencias se pusieron de manifiesto, por ejemplo, en el pleito sostenido o f por Bernat y Berenguer de Anglesola con el conde Ramon Berenguer IV. Los Anglesola reivindica- ban los dominios que habían ido ocupando entre Anglesola y Lleida, aunque el conde se defendió

diciendo que los había adquirido a los musulmanes en la conquista de Lleida. Añadía que ni su r i g in al s abuelo, como argumentaban los litigantes Anglesola, ni él les habían concedido dichos honores. A O la luz de la noticia, se observa como en los preludios de la conquista, se fueron ampliando los domi- nios cristianos en las inmediaciones de Lleida, aunque finalmente los reivindicó y validó el conde de Barcelona como adquisiciones suyas a los musulmanes100. No siempre se impuso la autoridad del conde o del rey, quienes llegaron a reconocer señores del territorio que habían sido refractarios a su autoridad, como el linaje de Cambrils. Pese a las vicisitudes, el poder condal y el regio afianzaron su liderazgo frente a la aristocracia territorial gracias a los desarrollos militares. Cabe preguntarse ¿Cómo alcanzaron el liderazgo el conde y el rey? Alcanzaron dicha preeminencia con los acuerdos con reyes peninsulares, el control del régimen de parias con los musulmanes, los pactos con los poderes italianos, la recepción del ideario cruzado y la liquidación del testamento del “Batallador”, la administración y ampliación del proceso pacificador, el sometimiento de algunos magnates importantes, la renovación de muchas fidelidades, el impulso de las órdenes regulares, en especial las militares, y también o, sobre todo, la consumación del liderazgo militar. Además la jerarquía política de la época, especialmente cuando el conde de Barcelona era también el rey, le atribuyó la condición de líder militar por excelencia. El conde Ramon Berenguer IV, sobre todo tras la conquista de Tortosa, y el rey, Alfonso el Casto participaron o lideraron año tras año expediciones de conquista u otras intervenciones militares, salvo algún breve paréntesis como tras la irrupción de los almohades. Su liderazgo militar se hizo explícito en una continuidad significativa de los períodos de guerra.

4. Fortificaciones y políticas militares

Las fortificaciones fueron el eje de los desarrollos bélicos en la Cataluña del siglo XII, conforme a una sistemática militar en el Occidente feudal basada, sobre todo, en la guerra de asedio101. De

100. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...:1760-1764 (doc. nº 1097) (1153-1162). 101. Contamine, Philippe. La guerra en la Edad Media...: 127-128, García Fitz, Francisco. Ejércitos y actividades guerreras...: 50-56. Los asedios constituían la gran mayoría de las confrontaciones en la guerra del período, Bradbury, Jim. The Medie- val Siege. Woodbridge-Suffolk: Boydel, 1992: 71, aunque J. France matiza la idea bastante extendida de que “las batallas

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 471 este modo, las fortalezas o villas fortificadas fueron el centro de la autoridad política en el terri- 102 nglish torio . Los señores afincaron su dominación en una región a través de sus castillos y aquellos

E infeudados. Asimismo, el poder condal promovió iniciativas para alcanzar el control en torno a in las fortificaciones, aunque los resultados fueron, a menudo, mediocres. Un elemento principal de la relación pactada entre señores era la dotación del feudo o el castillo al vasallo. Además, en los acuerdos feudovasalláticos se establecieron las prestaciones militares y los lazos que habilitaban la ubmitted estructura jerárquica de poder. De este modo, el vasallo especificaba los castillos por los que debía S la fidelidad en su juramento103. Además, en ocasiones, enumeraba los castillos del señor cuando se n o t comprometía a la defensa de todos sus “honores”104. La disponibilidad de los castillos por parte de los señores fue central en las relaciones de poder, exts

T ya que vitalizaba su autoridad por encima del vasallo. En este sentido, el señor se reservó el de-

the recho de hacer estancia, estatica, en las fortificaciones, y lo reivindicó en las infeudaciones, sobre

105 o f todo, en la primera mitad del siglo XII . El derecho de estancia, normalmente con manutención

o forfait, se detalló en algunos diplomas condales, ya fuese en Cerdanya, Pallars, Urgell o Barcelo- na, y a menudo en los suscritos con los vizcondes de dichos condados en las décadas iniciales del 106 riginals siglo . Tal exigencia se amparaba en el hecho que “la potestad de los castillos correspondía a sus O señores”, tal y como se indicaba en la legislación condal de los Usatges107. De hecho, la locución

eran relativamente raras”, France, John. Western Warfare...: 150. La construcción de fortificaciones aumentó en todo el Occidente feudal en la plena edad media, y fueron también destacadísimas en el desarrollo de las defensas en tierras del Oriente cruzado, Keegan, John. A History of Warface...: 141-142 y Chevdden, Paul, E. “Fortifications and the Deve- lopment of Defensive Planning during the Crusade Period”, The Circle of War in the Middle Ages, Donald Kagay, Andrew Villalon, eds. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1999: 33-43. 102. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La organización militar en Cataluña en la Edad Media”. Revista de Historia Militar, 45 (2001): 120-139. 103. Kosto, Adam. Making Agreements in Medieval Catalonia...: 85-86. Guillem Jordà I; Galcerà Miró; Berenguer Ecard; Dalmau Bernat; Pere Ramon explicitaban los castillos por los que debían fidelidad al conde de Cerdanya,Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 710-711 (doc. nº 392), 712-713 (doc. nº 393), 714-715 (doc. nº 394), 718-719 (doc. nº 396), (1095-1109) respectivamente, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 726-729 (doc. nº 402), 740-741 (doc. nº 413) (1111), 781-782 (doc. nº 446) (1113), 923-924 (doc. nº 549) (1123), Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 67-69 (doc. nº 30) (1139). También en las “conveniencias”, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 732-733 (doc. nº 405) (1110), 744-745 (doc. nº 416) (1111), 750-751 (doc. nº 421) (1112), 917-918 (doc. nº 545) (1122), 1009- 1010 (doc. nº 602), 1013-1014 (doc. nº 604). A veces, el vasallo daba la “potestad” de sus castillos al señor con quien adquiría el vínculo vasallático, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 656-660 (doc. nº 361) (1097-1105). 104. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 663-664 (doc. nº 364) (1106); 683-688 (doc. nº 376) (1107); 917- 918 (doc. nº 545); Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 58-41 (doc. nº 15) (1134). 105. Se especificó en pactos feudovasalláticos, así el señor Ponç Bernatretinet... sua estatica in ipsum castrum, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 110-111 (doc. nº 117) (1149). Incluso el derecho a estancia afectó al castellano del señor y al señor, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1297-1299 (doc. nº 795) (1142); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 288- 290 (doc. nº 205) (1176). 106. El vasallo libraba la “potestad” y la estancia de los castillos al conde de Cerdanya, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 712-713 (doc. nº 393). Otros juramentos de fidelidad con reconocimiento de estancia para el señor: 662-663 (doc. nº 363) (1106), 663-664 (doc. nº 364) (1106), 667-668 (doc. nº 366) (1106); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 888-889 (doc. nº 529) (1121); 890-891 (doc. nº 530) (1121); 964-965 (doc. nº 585) (1126), Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1007-1008 (doc. nº 601) o en “conveniencia”, 1075-1076 (doc. nº 643) (1130); 1150-1151 (doc. nº 693) (1136). Bernat Berenguer consentía a su señor, Ramon Renard, hacer estancia en el feudo y además reconocía la “potestad” del señor del señor, el conde de Barcelona, Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 924 (doc. nº 550) (1123). El rey Alfonso se reservó la “potestad” de castillos consignados, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 96-97 (doc. nº 57) (1168). 107. Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 84 (número 42).

472 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 “tener potestad” en el castillo se usó como sinónimo del derecho de estancia108. Esto explica que

los señores interviniesen en los castillos a través de la figura del castellano, que además lo escogían n gl is h directamente o debían dar su consentimiento si era elegido por el vasallo109. E in La construcción de fortalezas era el resultado y, a su vez, daba testimonio del ejercicio de la autoridad en una región. Por eso, tras disputas sobre el control de un ámbito, se impuso la destruc- ción de la fortificación, que se hacía conforme a la “autoridad” adquirida por la parte ganadora de la querella. El conde de Barcelona obligó la destrucción de fortalezas al conde de Empúries, como ubm i tted S la referida de Castelló d’Empúries, y los castillos de Charmezo y Rocabertí en 1138110. Además, no t Ponç II Hug de Empúries se comprometió a no levantar fortificación alguna en el obispado de Gi- rona y Rosselló111. De forma similar, el conde de Urgell acordó con algunos señores de la región la e x t s 112 destrucción de las fortificaciones levantadas en Meià, y no erigir otras . Había una identificación T

entre el derecho de fortificar y el ejercicio de autoridad en un territorio. Con todo, la dominación the

política condal reivindicó el control sobre las fortificaciones. El conde de Barcelona se reservó el o f derecho de “dar permiso” a que se levantasen fortificaciones, monasterios o iglesias, en un plano más teórico que efectivo113. Así, una sentencia falló contra la erección de un castillo por parte de

Galcerà de Salses sine litentia comitis, y se apelaba al “usatge” para imponer la voluntad del conde r i g in al s Ramon Berenguer IV114. O El afianzamiento de castillos y linajes en regiones vecinas a las que se iban a conquistar fueron principales para los ulteriores desarrollos militares, como por ejemplo en los ámbitos de Lleida o Siurana. Precisamente, se impulsó la erección, la reconstrucción y la infeudación de fortalezas en las regiones próximas a la ciudad de Lleida años antes de su conquista. Se seguía el esquema militar de establecer contra-castillos frente a plazas y ciudades enemigas, que eran bases seguras desde donde se lanzaban ataques de desgaste antes de su conquista115. Algunas infeudaciones referían que la fortificación tenía que construirse o reconstruirse, como por ejemplo en Bellester, Pujols Ru- biols, Tarrés, o se informaba que estaba destruida con el mismo ánimo reparador116. Señores inte- resados en la conquista, como el conde de Urgell, afianzaron su autoridad mediante la infeudación

108. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 667-668 (doc. nº 366) (1106). Se pedía al vasallo que le “diese la potestad”, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 261-262 (doc. nº 181) (1174), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 627-628 (doc. nº 474) (1188), Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 660-661 (doc. nº 498) (1189). Sobre el derecho de “postat”, Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La organización militar...”: 139-144. 109. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1280 (doc. nº 780); 1424-1425 (doc. nº 883) (1149); Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 174 (doc. nº 110) (1171); Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: IV, 1585-1588 (doc. nº 979) (1154). 110. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 978-982 (doc. nº 595) (1127) y Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1209-1211 (doc. nº 733) (1138). El senescal del conde se comprometió a destruir “edificios” hechos en el Monte de San Lorenzo, Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 42-44 (doc. nº 17) (1136). 111. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 599 (c. 1127). 112. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 81 (doc. nº 79) (1132). 113. Los Usatges de Barcelona...: 92 (número 73). Con todo, hay ejemplos sobre actuaciones del conde y del rey conforme a esta disposición. El rey Alfonso dio un permiso para que el abad de Cuixà fortificase una villa según su autoridad, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 215 (doc. nº 144) (1173), u otros lugares, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 433-434 (doc. nº 325) (1181). 114. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: III, 1152 (doc. nº 1012) (1157). 115. García Fitz, Francisco. “Las prácticas guerreras”...: 335. 116. Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 88-89 (doc. nº 86) (1138), 93-94 (doc. nº 93) (1139) y 111 (doc. nº 118) (1149), respectivamente. La reconstrucción de Bellcaire y Torre Fanega, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 92-93 (doc. nº 92) y 97 (doc. nº 98), y un castillo destruido en Penelles d’Algareix, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 106-107 (doc. nº 111) (1147).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 473 de castillos que se encontraban en manos de otros señores, como hiciese con Ramon Arnal quien

nglish había fortificado Almenara. El conde de Urgell era consciente de la ubicación de algunas fortifica-

E ciones infra finibus marchiarum, y de la necesidad de fijar la relación vasallática en dichas plazas para in reforzar su autoridad117. Los requerimientos a prestar obligaciones militares fueron recurrentes en las infeudaciones o en donaciones en las Marcas de los condados de Urgell y Barcelona en las dos décadas previas a la conquista de Lleida y de Siurana118. La castralización o militarización de la re- ubmitted gión respondía a un programa defensivo, pero a su vez el refuerzo militar estaba orientado a atacar S Lleida. Así, los templarios recibieron del conde de Urgell el encargo de “defender la cristiandad” n o t desde el castillo de Barberà en 1132, que precisamente estaba en esta región. Los templarios y los hospitalarios fueron escogidos para desarrollar su actividad militar en las exts

T conquistas y, significativamente, en la dominación de los espacios ocupados a partir de la obtención

the de imponentes fortalezas. Desde ellas, defendieron las fronteras meridionales en torno al tramo

o f final del río Ebro. Sólo a título indicativo, las órdenes militares ejercieron su dominio desde la

suda de Tortosa, el castillo de Gardeny de Lleida, y las fortalezas de Amposta, Miravet, Ulldecona, Ascó y Horta, entre otras. El conde de Barcelona les instó a “propagar la fe cristiana” y a atacar a 119 riginals los “infieles” musulmanes . Además, implicó a templarios y hospitalarios en las contiendas, en la O obtención del botín y de musulmanes, que debían capturar en las razias120. Las órdenes se consoli- daron dada su especialización militar frente a los musulmanes y, sobre todo, en la ocupación de sus tierras, que llevaron a cabo en representación de la autoridad condal o regia. Desde mediados del siglo XII, se produjo un destacado proceso de castralización de los territo- rios fronterizos, de los ocupados o refeudalizados y de los conquistados. Los señores que lideraron la ocupación de regiones como el Camp de Tarragona y el resto de territorios conquistados pro- movieron la centralización del poder en una fortificación o localidad fortificada. Se produjo un impulso señorial tanto en la construcción de fortificaciones como en la reocupación de castillos o torres andalusíes. En la región tarraconense se obligó a levantar una fortificación a los beneficiarios de sitios infeudados, donde se congregaría la población. Así sucedió en la infeudación de Mongons en 1149, de Riudoms en 1151, donde el señor pagaría la mitad de la fortificación, de Cambrils en 1152, de Salou en 1157, de Albiol y Alforja en 1158, y también en las de Siurana en 1163, de Rocabruna en 1171, o de Picamoixons en 1171121. En los ámbitos conquistados, Tortosa, Lleida y

117. Els pergamins de l’Arxiu Comtal de Barcelona...: II, 871-2 (doc. nº 518) (1120) y Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 92-93 (doc. nº 92) (1139). 118. Se exigieron las guaitas, o la obligación de vigilancia en infeudaciones como en Milmanda, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 108-109 (doc. nº 114) (1148 o 1149). En la infeudación de tres castillos, el señor exigía huestes y cabal- gadas, Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 116-117 (doc. nº 124) (1150). Había tensión militar en la Espluga cuando se advirtió al vasallo que si su señor habet guerram ipsum chastrum d’Espluga que adguent a gueregare, Diplomatari de Santa Ma- ria de Poblet: 123-124 (doc. nº 135) (1151). Era una guerra señorial, aunque el señor entendía que el castillo necesitaría refuerzos tras la conquista de Siurana: et quando siat de cristianos Siurana faciatis vestra estatica ad ipsa Espluga. 119. Otras expresiones reflejaban que era una guerra sin cuartel, y que los enemigos musulmanes debían ser arrasados, García Fitz, Francisco. “¿De exterminandis sarracenis? El trato dado al enemigo musulmán en el reino de Castilla-León du- rante la plena edad media”, El cuerpo derrotado: cómo trataban musulmanes y cristianos a los enemigos vencidos, Maribel Fierro, Francisco García fitz, eds. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2008: 113-166; especialmente 113. 120. Bonet, Maria. “Las órdenes militares en la expansión feudal de la corona de Aragón”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia medieval, 17 (2011): 243-300, especialmente 255, 259-260 y 259-279. 121. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 114-115 (doc. nº 70), 135-136 (doc. nº 84), 143-144 (doc. nº 91), Di- plomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 169 (doc. nº 200), Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 161-162 (doc. nº 109), 162-163 (doc. nº 110), 175 (doc. nº 121) y 200-202 (doc. nº 140).

474 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 Siurana, las donaciones condales y regias situaron en las fortificaciones el eje de la dominación 122 territorial, concedidas fundamentalmente a personas fieles y a las órdenes militares . n gl is h

Los castillos eran el centro de la dominación militar, y en definitiva del dominio de los diversos E in distritos rurales. Por eso, también fueron objeto destacado en las luchas por el poder. Así se puso de relieve en el proceso judicial entre el conde de Barcelona y Pere de Puigvert en 1157 con varios castillos en disputa: Prenafeta, Piera y Barberà; o en otra querella entre el rey Alfonso el Casto y Ramon de Fonollar por los castillos de Empúries y Fonollar en 1190123. ubm i tted S Sólo en zonas concretas, el conde o su hijo lograron ejercer una dominación a través de de- no t legados de su autoridad directa en los castillos. En ese sentido, se valieron de figuras como la del castellano. Este pasó de ser un teniente de castillos a una figura que era representante del rey en el e x t s territorio con cierto rango militar y político, distinto a la figura del vasallo o del mismo castellano T

señorial. En el territorio de Siurana, el rey Alfonso el Casto optó por delegar su poder en el distrito the

de Siurana a un castellano, Albert de Castellvell. El castellano de Siurana participó como su agente o f gubernativo en la concesión de los documentos poblacionales de la parte más montañosa de dicha demarcación124. Fue una situación particular en una región en la que el rey hizo valer sus derechos

de conquista frente a los teóricamente adquiridos por el arzobispo tarraconense y los ejercidos por r i g in al s otros señores125. En el ámbito vecino de la Conca de Barberà, el conde y su hijo, el rey, se enfren- O taron a las resistencias de los linajes locales e impulsaron fundaciones de localidades o feudos para limitarlos. Así, el rey Alfonso promovió un centro poblacional en Montblanc, que estuvo por un tiempo bajo la autoridad de su bailío y luego sujeto a la gobernación de su castellano. La castellanía estaba formada por Montblanc y la Riba en 1176-8126. El castellán disponía de la mitad del castillo, aunque el rey podría disponer militarmente del sitio y de sus dependientes “mediante la alberga y la hueste”. La figura del castellano se fue consolidando como representante del rey con función militar específica, y su presencia fue introducida en lugares en los que había otras dominaciones. De este modo, Alfonso el Casto infeudó el castillo de Conesa a Ramon de Cervera, aunque incluyó a su castellano en la concesión y además debía servir al rey con sus milites127. En un acuerdo de 1187, entre el conde de Urgell y el mismo rey, se establecía que et rex Aragon... mittat castlanum in predicta civitate Ilerde, como una manera de ejercer su poder en la ciudad128.

122. Sirva de ejemplo la concesión por parte del rey Alfonso, de las fortificaciones de Tivissa, Mora, Garcia y Marçà a Guillem de Castellvell, miembro de una familia leal, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 261-262 (doc. nº 181), (1174). 123. Colección de documentos inéditos...: IV, 252-260 (doc. nº 99). A veces se estableció una conveniencia para fijar dere- chos en castillos, en general en favor del rey en ámbitos sujetos a señores poderosos, como frente a Guillem de Cervera, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 370-372 (doc. nº 276) (1179). 124. Cartas de población y franquicia de Cataluña: 175 (doc. nº 121) (1163), 186 (doc. nº 128) (1166), 189-190 (doc. nº 133) (1168), 196-198 (doc. nº 138) (1170), 199-200 (doc. nº 139) (1170). 125. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 218-220 (doc. nº 148) (1173). 126. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 288-290 (doc. nº 205) (1176), Diplomatari de Santa Maria de Poblet: 418-419 (doc. nº 571), y la anterior provisión del cargo de bailío, Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 46-48 (doc. nº 12) (1163). 127. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 367-368 (doc. nº 272), (1178). 128. Alfonso II. Rey de Aragón...: 586-589 (doc. nº 443), y se añadía: comes Urgel donet potestatem de predicta civitate Ilerde regi Aragon (1187).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 475 5. Conclusiones

nglish El concepto “guerra” estaba directamente relacionado con la defensa o adquisición del patrimo-

E nio, según se utilizaba en la documentación de forma recurrente. Los miembros de la aristocracia in verbalizaban su cometido batallador en relación al patrimonio dominical y la tenencia del feudo. Patrimonializar, dominar y guerrear eran conceptos asimilables a una misma realidad, e incluso intercambiables. Por tanto, el término se identificó, sobre todo, con la defensa de la propiedad en ubmitted un sentido más privado que de otro signo, y la expresión “pacificar” se aplicó a la restitución del S patrimonio apoderado. En este contexto, la palabra “guerra” se usó de forma profusa para referir la n o t guerra feudal, que fue el conflicto por excelencia en el siglo XII catalán, aunque también se aplicó a otras confrontaciones militares mayores. De forma paralela, la participación de los distintos po- exts

T deres en las fortificaciones reflejaba que eran el centro de la dominación y de la guerra regional.

the De este modo, el castillo fue objeto de intervención por parte de los poderes dominicales, señores

o f y vasallos, y el eje de las políticas militares en el dominio de territorios, como las desplegadas por

parte del poder condal o regio. Por eso, ambos intervinieron en los territorios mediante el impulso de la castralización y la vinculación vasallática de los titulares de castillos.

riginals Los proyectos o los ataques cristianos contra al-Ándalus fueron denominados mediante ex- O presiones singulares, como la referencia a la intervención de la providencia divina en pro de la cristiandad, la “formación de un ejército” u otras como “conquistar”, “adquirir”, “liberar”, y tam- bién “hacer la guerra”. El lenguaje expresaba el carácter excepcional y especial que tuvieron estas otras contiendas, como lo indica que fueron definidas como sobrenaturales. En este contexto, cabe advertir que el conde de Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer III, participó en el primer ataque catalán de envergadura de la mano de los pisanos, y además compartiendo protagonismo con el conde de Empúries. Con todo, el barcelonés sobresalía por el hecho de disponer de “ejército”, pagar algunos efectivos y, al parecer, disponía de alguna capacidad naval antes de mediados del XII. Los primeros programas de conquista ideados por el conde de Barcelona se plantearon con la cooperación de algún otro conde; pero fueron abandonados por proyectos que incorporaban ayu- das de contingentes italianos o de guerreros especializados, como las órdenes militares. De hecho, no destacó en el terreno militar hasta que logró conquistar Tortosa (1148), y lo hizo gracias a las extraordinarias contribuciones de los genoveses, de combatientes forasteros, de los templarios y de técnicas militares desconocidas hasta la fecha en Cataluña, al menos de manera eficaz y combina- da —armada y máquinas de guerra—. En esta y las siguientes operaciones militares, la aristocracia catalana quedó sujeta al liderazgo militar de Ramon Berenguer IV, y en cierto modo, relegada. Sólo un año después, la conquista de Lleida, que se había gestado desde el condado de Urgell, se convirtió en otra victoria del condado de Barcelona, aunque con la participación y reconocimiento de los derechos del de Urgell bajo su dominio. Cosa parecida sucedió con la conquista del valiato de Siurana y comportó mayor intervención del de Barcelona en la región. El conde había desban- cado, en parte, al conde de Urgell, y claramente a los linajes de las regiones fronterizas a las tierras conquistadas como los Anglesola, los Cervera, e inclusive los Puigvert. Poco después de las dos conquistas más destacadas de mediados del XII, y en la legislación con- dal, Ramon Berenguer IV se arrogó el derecho sobre “la paz y la guerra”, y en especial en relación a los musulmanes, que renovaría el rey Alfonso el Casto. Ambos reivindicaron dicha atribución en sus dominios y en los ámbitos sujetos a su influencia, pero terminaron por delegarla en sus representantes. En cambio, esta teórica posición preeminente en la administración de la “paz y la guerra” favoreció los acuerdos sobre las estrategias militares peninsulares junto a otros dirigentes

476 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 situados en el mismo plano. De la guerra surgió cierta autoridad del conde y luego del rey, que con-

tribuyó al afianzamiento de su liderazgo político en asuntos como las relaciones con otros líderes n gl is h peninsulares, la intervención más directa en los ámbitos conquistados y en un mayor control de E in sus relaciones con la aristocracia. De hecho, a lo largo del siglo XII, la aristocracia se reorganizó y quedó encuadrada bajo el li- derazgo de importantes familias de la región, y de los condes, como los de Barcelona o de Urgell. Estos últimos desplegaron diversas acciones “pacificadoras”, que significaron el sometimiento de ubm i tted S los nobles pacificados a su liderazgo, especialmente militar, sobre todo, en la primera mitad de no t siglo. Además, en la segunda mitad de siglo, los compromisos de hacer la guerra por el señor prácticamente habían desaparecido de los documentos de infeudación. De forma significativa, del e x t s ejercicio y del control de la paz surgió la consolidación del liderazgo militar y, en parte, político T

del condado de Barcelona. Las políticas condales para alcanzar su preeminencia fueron variadas, the

como los acuerdos con miembros de la nobleza, que iban del sometimiento a la implicación de sus o f miembros en las grandes contiendas. Además, manejaron elementos ideológicos, como los argu- mentos cruzados, que contribuyeron a la idea de una cierta especificidad militar o especialización

y favorecieron la incorporación de nuevos agentes. También fueron trascendentes los pactos con r i g in al s aliados foráneos, que proporcionaron una potencialidad militar extra y extraordinaria en relación O a las posibilidades locales. En la Cataluña del siglo XII, las guerras feudales coexistieron con otras empresas de mayor envergadura, como las de conquista; unas y otras se correspondían con distintos niveles de domi- nación, de alcance regional o supraregional. Las nuevas exigencias militares supraregionales favo- recieron el protagonismo del poder condal o regio, la “pacificación” y la incorporación de nuevos actores, que fracturaron la exclusividad de la dominación militar por parte de la aristocrática de forma irreversible. El gran cambio militar de mediados del siglo XII comportó el paso de una guerra por la propiedad privada local a otra orientada a “apropiarse” de amplios territorios en manos de los enemigos. Se hizo necesaria una capacidad y un liderazgo militar que la aristocracia feudal no podía ofrecer debido a sus dinámicas. La eficacia militar, alcanzada con nuevos medios impulsados desde el condado de Barcelona, favoreció la consolidación política del conde al frente de un conglo- merado de dominaciones, y ante otros líderes aristocráticos muy activos hasta mediados del siglo XII. La guerra fue una manifestación esencial del poder, no tanto como derivación de la política, sino como motor o estímulo de nuevas realidades sociales y políticas. Con todo, la atención a los diversos niveles de la dominación militar y política ofrece una imagen de la historia política cata- lana del siglo XII compleja y de realidad plural, que es un contrapunto a lecturas historiográficas con planteamientos estatalistas y presentistas. Estos enfoques se han concretado en narrativas que han sobredimensionado la entidad política del poder condal de Barcelona, ofreciendo una imagen lineal ascendente de la formación de un “estado” feudal. En realidad, primó la lucha por lo privado y por la apropiación, aunque efectivamente estas guerras favorecieron desarrollos políticos desti- nados a lograr la máxima eficacia militar y de dominación.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 455-477. ISSN 1888-3931 477 LA EXPEDICIÓN CATALANO-ARAGONESA CONTRA TOLOSA

nglish Y LA Submisión DE NIZA Y FORCAUQUIER (1175-1177):

E UN ANTES Y UN DESPUÉS EN EL DESARROLLO in DE LA GRAN GUERRA OCCITANA

ubmitted Pere Benito i Monclús S Universitat de Lleida n o t exts T

the Resumen o f

Esta contribución plantea una revisión historiográfica de uno de los episodios peor conocidos de la Gran Guerra Occitana: la expedición que en 1175 Alfonso el Casto dirigió personalmente contra

riginals la capital del condado de Tolosa. La idea central que sostiene el autor es que este acontecimiento O —preludio de una amplia campaña militar que concluye en 1177 con la submisión de Niza y el condado de Forcauquier— supuso un antes y un después en el curso de la Gran Guerra Occitana y, por extensión, de la expansión ultrapirenaica de la Corona de Aragón, tanto por las caracterís- ticas, la duración y el alcance geográfico de la intervención —de entidad y duración similar a las campañas que Jaime I llevó a cabo en Mallorca y Valencia— como por las consecuencias de índole territorial y político-administrativo que tuvo dentro de la Corona de Aragón1.

Faray chanzo ans que veinha·l laig tems, pus en Tolsa nos n’anam tuit essems. A Deu coman tot cant reman de zay: ploran m’en part, car las domnas am nems. Tot lo païs, de Salsas tro a Trems, salv Deus, e plus cel on midons estai.

Ponç de la Guàrdia, canso IV2

1. La Gran Guerra Occitana

Por Gran Guerra Occitana entiendo la contienda que entre 1112 y 1198 enfrentó a las casas condales de Barcelona y Tolosa por la hegemonía política y económica sobre algunos de los terri- torios y señoríos más prósperos del Languedoc y de la Provenza marítima. Esta locución, empleada

1. Abreviaturas usadas: ACA, Archivo de la Corona de Aragón; ADBR, Archives départementales des Bouches-du- Rhône; ADPO, Archives Départementales des Pyrénées-Orientales. 2. “Haré una canción antes de que llegue el mal tiempo, ya que nos vamos todos al país de Tolosa. A quienes se quedan aquí, les encomiendo a Dios. Me voy llorando, porqué quiero mucho a las damas. Dios salve a todo el país [Cataluña], desde Salses hasta Tremp, y de manera especial a la tierra donde vive mi señora.” Frank, István. “Pons de la Guardia, troubadour catalan du XIIe siècle”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 22 (1949): 296-297.

478 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 en el ámbito de la historiografía catalana desde los años sesenta,3 no es completamente ajena a 4 la historiografía francesa, que prefiere, sin embargo, la denominaciónGrande Guerre Méridionale, n gl is h acuñada por Charles Higounet en 1951, en un artículo en el que por primera vez reconocía entidad E in historiográfica a este desarrollo bélico, y divulgada posteriormente por Pierre Bonnassie.5 Con algo menos de fortuna, la historiografía francesa ha utilizado también los términos Guerre de Cent Ans Méridionale y Guerre de Cent Ans du XIIe siècle.6 La Gran Guerra Occitana es, desde sus orígenes, un complejo conflicto supraregional que en- ubm i tted S frenta a los condes de Barcelona y reyes de Aragón con los condes de Tolosa por toda un amalgama no t de intereses territoriales entre los que se encuentran: la soberanía sobre los vizcondados de los Trencavel (Carcassona, Rasés, Agda, Besièrs), el condado de Melguelh (actualmente Mauguio) con e x t s sus derechos de acuñación de moneda (moneda melgoresa), el señorío de la ciudad de Montpe- T

llier, y la soberanía sobre la Provenza Marítima y su herencia anexa —los vizcondados de Milhau, the

Gavaudan y Carladés— y sobre el condado de Forcauquier. o f

Las raíces de la contienda se retrotraen a los acuerdos de 1067-1071 por los cuales los condes de Barcelona Ramon Berenguer I y Almodis adquirieron los condados de Carcassona-Rasés. Esta

compleja operación puso los cimientos de la denominada expansión catalana en Occitania y pro- r i g in al s vocó la ruptura de las tradicionales relaciones de amistad entre Tolosa y Barcelona.7 O El enlace del conde de Barcelona Ramon Berenguer III con la condesa Dolça, heredera de la Provenza marítima y de los vizcondados de Milhau, Gavaudan y Carladés, y la incorporación de estos territorios a los dominios de la casa de Barcelona en 1112, actúa como detonante de la guerra que, de manera casi permanente, enfrenta a Barcelona y Tolosa hasta 1198. Este éxito diplomático catalán desata las iras de Anfós Jordan que, en su condición de conde de Sant Geli, reivindica la soberanía sobre el conjunto territorial de la Provenza histórica (la Provenza Marítima, el condado de Forcauquier y el Marquesado o Provenza interior). El tratado de división de Provenza de 1125

3. En un sentido cronológicamente más restringido, fue empleada por primera vez por Jordi Ventura: Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast. Barcelona: el primer comte rei. Barcelona: Aedos, 1961: 201-205. 4. Lafont, Robert. Trobar: XIIe, XIIIe siècles, soixante chansons de troubadours. Montpellier: Université de Montpellier III, Centre d’études occitanes, 1972: 148 y 203; Cassard, Jean-Christophe. “L’affaire de paix et de foi vue de Bretagne Ar- morique. Quelques notes d’hérésiologie virtuelle”, Religion et société urbaine au Moyen Âge: études offertes à Jean-Louis Biget par ses anciens élèves, Patrick Boucheron, Jacques Chiffoleau, dirs. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2000: 160. 5. Higounet, Charles. “Un grand chapitre de l’histoire du XIIe siècle. La rivalité des maisons de Toulouse et de Barcelo- ne pour la prépondérance méridionale”, Mélanges d’histoire du Moyen âge, dédiés à la mémoire de Louis Halphen. París: Pres- ses universitaires de France, 1951: 313-322; Sobre la Grande Guerre Méridionale, véase también: Abadal, Ramon d’. “À propos de la domination de la maison comtale de Barcelone sur le Midi français”. Annales du Midi, 76 (1964): 315-346; Bonnassie, Pierre. “L’Occitanie un État manqué?”. L’Histoire, 14 (1979): 31-40; Bonnassie, Pierre. “Le comté de Toulouse et le comté de Barcelone du début du IXe au début du XIIIe siècle (801-1213): esquisse d’une histoire comparée”, Actes del Vuitè Col·loqui Internacional de llengua i literatura catalanes. Tolosa de Llenguadoc, 12-17 de setembre de 1988. Barcelona: Publicacions de l’Abadia de Montserrat, 1989: I, 41-43; Macé, Laurent. Les comtes de Toulouse et leur entourage: XIIe-XIIIe siècles : rivalités, alliances et jeux de pouvoir. Toulouse: Privat, 2003: 23, 98. 6. Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne, XIe-XIIe siècles. Serments, hommages et fiefs dans le Languedoc des Trencavel. Toulouse: Presses Universitaires du Mirail, 2003: 72. 7. Débax, Hélène. La féodalité Languedocienne...: 71. Sobre la compra de Carcasona-Rasès, véanse: Cheyette, Fredric L. “The Sale of Carcassonne to the Counts of Barcelona (1067-1070) and the Rise of the Trencavels”. Speculum, 63 (1988): 826-864; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité Languedocienne...: 58-71; Ammannati, Giulia. “Saint-Victor di Marsiglia e la sua espansione nell’area pirenaica. Tre lettere della seconda metà del sec. XI”. Studi Medievali, 48 (2007): 3ª serie, fasc. I: 55- 59; 1-I, 20-28. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca de Barcelona i de la Corona d’Aragó: guerra, política i diplomàcia (1067-1213)”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques de Catalunya i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa, Manuel Riu, Maria Teresa Ferrer, dirs. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2009.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 479 que le reconoce la soberanía sobre los territorios del oeste de la Durença no logrará apaciguar las 8 nglish aspiraciones del conde de Tolosa de hacerse con el dominio de la parte marítima del condado.

E Desde los inicios de la contienda los condes de Barcelona cuentan con la alianza incondicional in de los vizcondes de Narbona y de los Guilhems, señores de Montpellier, mientras que el conde de Tolosa ejerce su tutela sobre los condes de Melguelh y los vizcondes de Nimes y cuenta con dos importantes aliados exteriores: el poderoso linaje de los Baus que, desde la incorporación de la Pro- ubmitted venza marítima a la casa condal de Barcelona, pugna por ver reconocidos sus derechos de sucesión S sobre el condado de Provenza; y la ciudad de Génova, en guerra abierta con Pisa y Barcelona por n o t el dominio del litoral provenzal desde 1160. Los Trencavel, vizcondes de Carcassona-Rasés y Agda- Besièrs, y los condes de Foix basculan, en función de las circunstancias y la correlación de fuerzas exts

T de cada momento, entre la sumisión a Tolosa y el reconocimiento de la soberanía de Barcelona, 9 the en lo que Ramon d’Abadal y Hélène Débax han calificado de interesada política de equidistancia.

o f A partir de mediados del siglo XII la Gran Guerra Occitana se internacionaliza y recrudece. En

1152 el matrimonio de Enrique II Plantagenet con Leonor de Poitou, prima de la reina Petronila y heredera de Aquitania, asienta las bases de la alianza que seis años más tarde Ramon Berenguer

riginals IV y Enrique II Plantagenet sellarán con el proyecto de enlace de sus hijos, Leonor y Ricardo Cora- O zón de León.10 La Corona de Aragón y el reino de Inglaterra inician entonces una larga etapa de amistad y alianza que, con altos y bajos, se prolongará hasta el reinado de Fernando el Católico.11 A la coalición angloaragonesa, Raimon V de Tolosa responde en 1154 sellando una alianza con los Capetos mediante su matrimonio con Constanza, hermana del rey Luis VII de Francia.12 Surge en- tonces, como una extensión de la Gran Guerra Occitana, focalizada en el Languedoc y la Provenza marítima, una guerra de cuarenta años que, entre 1156 y 1196, enfrenta a los Plantagenet y a los condes de Tolosa y a sus respectivos aliados en dos escenarios distintos: Aquitania y Lemosín.13 Por si no fuera suficiente, a partir de 1143 Génova entra en escena, protagonizando inicialmente acciones corsarias contra intereses provenzales y catalanes y firmando en 1171 y 1174 sendos tratados de alianza con Tolosa para hacer la guerra contra Barcelona con el objetivo de apropiarse del litoral provenzal.14 Se configuran así, en esta segunda fase de la Gran Guerra Occitana, dos grandes bloques o ejes de alianzas: por un lado, la Corona de Aragón y el Imperio angevino, por otro, el condado de Tolo-

8. Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 175-195; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 40-44. 9. Abadal, Ramon d’. “La dominació de la casa comtal de Barcelona sobre el Migdia de França”, Dels visigots als catalans. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1970: II, 301; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne...: 86-97. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...: I: 1, 57. 10. Warren, Wilfred Lewis. Henry II. New Haven-Londres: Yale University Press, 1973: 85; Aurell, Martin. L’Empire des Plantagenêt. 1154-1224. Paris: Perrin, 2003: 25-27. 11. Soldevila, Ferran. Ramon Berenguer IV el Sant. Barcelona: Barcino, 1955: 14. 12. Débax, Hélène. “Stratégies matrimoniales des comtes de Toulouse (850-1270)”. Annales du Midi, 182 (1988): 142- 143; Macé, Laurent. Les comtes de Toulouse...: 29. 13. Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War”. Historical Research, 61 (1988): 270; Martindale, Jane. “An Unfinished Business. Angevin Politics and the Siege of Toulouse, 1159”. Anglo-Norman Studies, 23 (2000): 115-154; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 58-59. 14. Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”, Actes du Ier Congrès historique Provence-Ligurie. 2-5 octobre 1964. Aix-Marsella: Federation Historique de Provence-Institut International d’Études Ligures, 1966: 112-116; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 65-72.

480 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 sa, Francia, la república de Génova y el Imperio —tras la caída de Milán en 1162 Federico Barba- 15 rroja interviene sobre Provenza y a partir de 1174 sostiene el partido de los Baus—. n gl is h

El final de la Gran Guerra Occitana se sitúa en el contexto del nuevo orden surgido del tratado E in de paz de Louviers (14 de julio de 1196) por el cual Felipe II de Francia y Ricardo I de Inglaterra repartieron sus respectivas áreas de expansión, dejando los dominios del conde de Tolosa bajo influencia francesa.16 Las bases de la alianza entre Tolosa y Barcelona que ponían fin a casi 90 años de enfrentamiento ubm i tted S armado se pusieron en la conferencia de Perpinyà de febrero de 1198 entre Raimon VI de Tolosa, no t el conde Bernat IV de Comenge y Pedro el Católico.17 Según Higounet en esta entrevista se decidió el matrimonio, celebrado en 1204, de Pedro el Católico con María de Montpellier, que desde hacía e x t s 18 dos meses era la nueva esposa de Bernat IV de Comenge. Por otra parte, un convenio firmado T

en septiembre de 1198 entre la ciudad de Génova y Pedro el Católico puso fin al enfrentamiento the

19 entre la república ligur y Barcelona por la hegemonía sobre el litoral occitano. Y en una nueva o f entrevista celebrada en Perpinyà en noviembre de 120220 Raimon VI de Tolosa, viudo de Juana de Inglaterra, se comprometió a desposar la joven Leonor, hermana de Pedro el Católico,21 una alianza

que los historiadores de la cruzada albigense no dudarían en presentar como una estratagema del r i g in al s conde de Tolosa para poner sus dominios bajo la protección del rey de Aragón.22 O Hasta aquí una presentación, necesariamente breve, de un largo y complejo conflicto, que, fuera de los marcos estrictos de la historiografía sobre la expansión catalana en Occitania23 y de la historiografía meridional francesa,24 no goza aún de un reconocimiento general, acorde a la impor- tancia histórica del desarrollo bélico. La falta de perspectiva de conjunto sobre la contienda, conse- cuencia de la fragmentada historiografía occitana, y la tendencia dominante a articular el discurso de la construcción del reino de Francia en torno al proceso de unificación concéntrica liderada por

15. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial...”: 60-62, 79-80. 16. Alvira, Martín. El Jueves de Muret: 12 de Septiembre de 1213. Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona, 2002: 86-87. 17. Archives Départementales des Pyrénées-Orientales. Serie B, 8. 18. Higounet, Charles. Le comté de Comminges. De ses origines à son annexion à la couronne. Toulouse: Privat, 1949: 79-82 y 85. 19. I Libri Iurium della Repubblica di Genova. Roma: Ministero per i beni culturali e ambientali, 1992-2002: I/2, 71-74 (doc. no 299); Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: I-1, 449-452 (doc. no 140). Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”...: 129; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Les relacions del comtat de Barcelona i de la Corona catalanoaragonesa amb els estats italians en els segles XI-XII”, Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: I/1, 220-223. 20. Laborie, Florent. Les itinéraires du roi Pierre II d’Aragon (1196-1213): tentative d’approche cartographique. Mémoire de maî- trise, Laurent Macé, dir. Toulouse: Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail, 2005: I, 63-64. 21. Según Guilhem de Puylorens, el conde Raimon VI de Tolosa, viudo, pactó en Perpinyà su matrimonio con Leonor, hermana de Pedro el Católico. Siendo la princesa aún joven, el matrimonio no se celebró hasta el mes de enero de 1204 (Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc. Toulouse: Privat, 1872-1904: VI, 190). 22. Aurell, Martin. Les noces du comte. Mariage et pouvoir en Catalogne (785-1213). París: Publications de la Sorbonne, París, 1995: 385. 23. Sobre la historiografía de la expansión, véase: Aurell, Martin. “Autour d’un débat historiographique: l’expansion catalane dans les pays de langue d’oc au Moyen Âge”, Montpellier, la Couronne d’Aragon et les pays de langue d’oc (1204- 1349). Actes du XIIe Congrès d’histoire de la Couronne d’Aragon. Montpellier, 26-29 septembre 1985. Montpellier: Societé Archéo- logique de Montpellier, 1987: 9-41. 24. Véase la bibliografía citada en la nota 4.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 481 los Capetos, explican que, a diferencia de la Guerra de los Cien Años, la Grande Guerre Méridionale 25 nglish no tenga aún hoy un lugar en las síntesis de historia política de Francia.

E El objetivo de mi contribución no es tanto subsanar esta laguna, como llamar la atención sobre in la importancia que tuvo en el desarrollo bélico que nos ocupa un episodio mal conocido: la expe- dición que en 1175 Alfonso el Casto dirigió personalmente contra la capital del condado de Tolosa. Este acontecimiento —preludio de una amplia campaña militar que concluye en 1177 con la in- ubmitted corporación de Niza y el condado de Forcauquier— señala un antes y un después en el curso de S la Gran Guerra Occitana y, por extensión, de la expansión ultrapirenaica de la Corona de Aragón, n o t tanto por las características, la duración y el alcance geográfico de la intervención —de entidad y duración similar a las campañas que Jaime I llevó a cabo en Mallorca y Valencia— como por exts

T las consecuencias de índole territorial y político-administrativo que tuvo dentro de la Corona de

the Aragón. A pesar de su trascendencia, la campaña occitana de 1175-1177 ha pasado prácticamente

o f inadvertida a la historiografía por dos razones fundamentales: una de naturaleza heurística —la

escasez y dispersión de fuentes— y otra historiográfica, la falta de perspectiva de conjunto sobre el desarrollo bélico de la Gran Guerra Occitana a la que aludía anteriormente. riginals O 2. La expedición catalano-aragonesa contra Tolosa

La expedición militar catalano-aragonesa contra Tolosa de 1175 es, en efecto, uno de los epi- sodios más oscuros de la Gran Guerra Occitana debido a la escasez de fuentes, a las dificultades de ensamblar la información procedente de las fuentes narrativas con las fuentes documentales dispo- nibles y a los problemas de datación que presentan los documentos producidos en el área occitana, en especial, las incertidumbres sobre el estilo del cómputo del año de la Encarnación empleado por los redactores.26 Este último problema no es, como podría parecer, una cuestión erudita ni trivial, puesto que afecta de manera nuclear a la reconstrucción de la secuencia de los acontecimientos y, en consecuencia, a su interpretación.27 Las tres versiones de las Gesta Comitum Barchinonensium aluden a una expedición militar de Al- fonso el Casto que, en su camino al encuentro con el rey de Inglaterra, se hospedó cerca de Tolosa y causó grandes estragos dentro de las fronteras del condado enemigo.28

25. Véase, por ejemplo: Histoire de la France politique, Le Moyen Age: le roi, l’Église, les grands, le peuple, 481-1514, Philippe Contamine, ed. París: Seuil, 2002: I. 26. El denominado estilo florentino, empleado mayoritariamente en los documentos catalanes datados por el año de la Encarnación antes de 1349, coexiste con el estilo pisano, ampliamente difundido en el área occitana: Garrigues, Damien. “Les styles du commencement de l’année dans le Midi. L’emploi de l’année pisane en pays toulousain et en Languedoc”. Annales du Midi, 53 (1941): 237-270 y 337-362; Higounet, Charles. “Le style pisan. Son emploi. Sa diffusion géographique. Le Moyen Âge, 58 (1952): 31-42; Rouillan-Castex, Sylvie. “De nouvelles datations languedociennes en style pisan”. Annales du Midi, 81 (1969): 313-319. 27. La incertidumbre sobre los sistemas y estilos de datación empleados por los escribanos, patente en el grupo de documentos que configuran la operación de compra de Carcassona y Rasès (Cheyette, Fredric L. “TheSale of Carcas- sonne...”: 826-864; Débax, Hélène. La féodalité languedocienne...: 58-71), afecta de manera general a los documentos producidos en el área occitana durante la Gran Guerra Occitana (Benito, Pere. L’expansió territorial...: 21, 66). 28. “Cum Raimundo iam dicto comite Tolose quamplures seditiones semper dum visit habuit; et cum magnis exerci- tibus ante Tolosam hospitatus est, et multa ibi devastavit, transiens potenter per fines illos dum ad visendum regem Anglie perrexit, et ipse Raimundus comes nunquam ausus fuit per totam terram suam illum expugnare”. Gesta comitum Barcinonensium, eds. Lluis Barrau, Jaime Massó. Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 1925: 13-14; Les “Gesta Comitum Barchinonensium” (versió primitiva), la “Brevis historia” i altres textos de Ripoll, Stefano Cingolani, ed. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2012: XIII, 7, 147.

482 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 La identificación de este episodio dentro de la secuencia de acontecimientos conocidos de la

Gran Guerra Occitana es problemática. Devic y Vaissete, siguiendo a Zurita, sugirieron que la en- n gl is h trevista de Alfonso el Casto con el rey inglés habría tenido lugar en 1181.29 Martí de Riquer, tras E in comparar las distintas versiones de las Gesta Comitum, rechazó esta hipótesis y propuso como alter- nativa el encuentro celebrado en Najac, en Roergue, en abril de 1185 entre el rey Alfonso el Casto y Ricardo Corazón de León. Según Riquer, en esta cumbre se decidió la campaña contra Tolosa que el príncipe Ricardo llevaría a cabo a principios de 1186.30 Recientemente, Stefano Cingolani, en la ubm i tted S edición a la versión catalana de las Gesta, sitúa la campaña contra Tolosa entre finales de 1182 y no t principios de 1183.31 En cualquier caso, podemos aceptar como plausible una datación amplia entre 1180 y prin- e x t s cipios de 1186, periodo durante el cual Alfonso el Casto se encontró con el rey de Inglaterra o T

con alguno de sus hijos, les ofreció ayuda e intervino militarmente en Aquitania en al menos tres the

ocasiones. En 1181 ofreció ayuda al rey Enrique II Plantagenet y a sus hijos en su lucha contra la o f nobleza aquitana rebelde. Alfonso el Casto y la vizcondesa de Narbona se reunieron con el príncipe Ricardo en Periguers y a finales de junio asediaron juntos el castillo de Saint-Front. Poco después, a

finales de 1182, se produjo la división entre los tres príncipes angevinos; Enrique el Joven y el du- r i g in al s que de Bretaña, Godofredo, se aliaron con los dos condes de Angulema, el vizconde de Limoges y O el vizconde de Turena contra su hermano, el duque Ricardo de Aquitania. Enrique II de Inglaterra acudió a Limoges para poner paz entre sus hijos, pero Enrique el Joven, con el apoyo del conde de Tolosa, del duque de Borgoña y del rey de Francia Felipe Augusto, se le declaró en rebeldía. Para castigarle, el rey inglés solicitó de nuevo la ayuda de Alfonso el Casto y de otros príncipes aliados que le asistieron en el sitio del castillo de Limoges, que se rindió el 24 de junio, y en el del castillo de Autafòrt, que capituló el 1 de julio.32 Finalmente, en abril de 1185 o 118633 el rey Alfonso y el conde Ricardo de Poitou se encontraron en Najac, en Roergue, y rubricaron una alianza contra Tolosa; ambos se comprometieron a reunir 200 caballeros armados para hacer la guerra a Raimon V. El conde Ricardo renunció a favor del rey de Aragón a todos sus derechos y pretensiones sobre los dominios de Roger y de su hermano Trecavel y se comprometió a devolverle varios castillos en posesión de los reyes de Castilla y de Navarra. Con el concurso de las tropas catalano-aragonesas, Ricardo invadió las tierras del Albigés y del Agenés y tomó numerosos castillos.34 Más problemático resulta relacionar el episodio narrado por las Gesta Comitum con la expedición que Alfonso el Casto lanzó contra Tolosa en septiembre de 1175, ya que en esta ocasión, como ve- remos, no hubo ni entrevista previa ni colaboración con el rey inglés. La existencia de esta campa-

29. Devic, Claude; Vaissette, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 94; Zurita, Jerónimo. Anales de la Corona de Aragón. Zaragoza: Diego Dormer, 1669: I, lib. II, cap. XXXIX, f. 84r. 30. Riquer, Martín de. “En torno a Arondeta de ton chantar m’azir”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 22 (1949): 218-228. 31. Gestes dels Comtes de Barcelona i Reis d’Aragó, Stefano Cingolani, ed. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2008: 120. 32. Devic, Claude; Vaissette, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 99-104; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 88. En abril de 1183 Alfonso I firmó un instrumento de reconocimiento de deuda con el baile real de Perpinyà, Bernat Sanç, en Besièrs, “quando ego tendebam ad colloquium regis Anglie” (ACA. Cancillería, Alfonso I, perg. nº 340). 33. Según Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War”. Historical Research, 61 (1988): 279. 34. ACA. Cancillería. Alfonso I. Pergaminos, 387; Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, 417-418, doc. no 121. Sobre el contexto y el contenido del tratado, véase Devic, Fredic; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 114; Benjamin, Richard. “A Forty Years War...”: 277-285.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 483 ña militar fue sugerida por primera vez por Charles Higounet,35 pero corresponde a Agustí Altisent

nglish el mérito de haber demostrado la hipótesis del historiador francés, elaborando una propuesta de

E datación fiable a partir de las escasas fuentes documentales que se refieren a ella.36 in De acuerdo con Altisent, durante la primavera y el verano de 1175 tuvieron lugar los preparati- vos de una gran expedición militar, integrada por catalanes y aragoneses y dirigida personalmente por el rey Alfonso el Casto, que a finales de septiembre o primeros días de octubre partió “hacia ubmitted Tolosa” (apud Tolosam).37 En octubre de 1175 el ejército real se encontraba en Savès, en Comenge, S cuando el rey Alfonso cedió en feudo el valle de Arán al conde Céntulo III de Bigòrra y a su esposa, n o t Matilde de Baux, viuda del vizconde Pèire II de Bearn. A cambio de esta concesión el conde de Bigòrra y sus sucesores se obligaban en adelante a prestar homenaje al rey de Aragón por sus domi- exts 38 T nios. La interpretación que hizo Altisent de este pacto es difícilmente rebatible; de camino hacia

the Tolosa al frente de su hueste, Alfonso el Casto se procuraba un aliado en la retaguardia y convertía

39 o f el condado de Bigòrra en una especie de marca defensiva frente a Raimon V.

Es innegable la relación entre la expedición militar de 1175 apud Tolosam de Alfonso del Casto y la agresiva alianza militar que el conde Raimon V había firmado en 1174 con la república de Géno- 40 riginals va con el objetivo de apropiarse del condado de Provenza. No obstante, es probable que la deci- O sión de atacar Tolosa en septiembre de 1175 obedeciera a motivaciones más directas e inmediatas. La Segunda Crónica de Besièrs recoge la noticia de unos antiguos anales tolosanos según la cual en septiembre de 1176 el conde de Tolosa se dirigió al frente de su hueste a “tallar” la ciudad de Mont- pellier. Este episodio encaja mal en el contexto posterior a la paz de Gernega (Jarnègues) de abril de 1176. En cambio, resultaría coherente en dos momentos anteriores. El primero de ellos es junio de 1172, cuando Raimon V, con el concurso de la flota genovesa, sometió la ciudad de Montpellier a un asedio por tierra y por mar, obligando a Guilhem VII de Montpellier a reconocerle como con- de de Melguelh y a prestarle homenaje por los beneficios que obtenía de la moneda melgoresa.41 La segunda posibilidad es septiembre de 1175.42 Si tras la muerte de Guilhem VII en 1172, Raimon V, con el apoyo de Génova, rubricado por el tratado de 1174, se dirigió de nuevo con su

35. Higounet, Charles. Le comté de Comminges...: 175-178. 36. Altisent, Agustí. “Poblet, Bernat d’Anglesola i dues expedicions militars d’Alfons el Cast”, Miscellanea Populetana. Poblet: Abadia de Poblet, 1966: 175-178. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition d’Alphonse le Chaste à Toulouse en 1175”. Annales du Midi, 79 (1967): 429-436. 37. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition...”: 430, cita los testamentos de Guerau, padre de Pere Rocaverd, volens ire in exercitu Tolose cum rege Aragonensis, del 6 de septiembre de 1175 (ACA. Cancillería. Alfonso I. Pergaminos, 184), y de Bernat d’Anglesola, que el 24 de septiembre, mandato regis, domini mei, se disponía a seguirle in exercitum ipsius, apud To- losam (Santacana, Jaime. El monasterio de Poblet (1151-1181). Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1974: 617, doc. no 159), además de un documento posterior, de abril de 1180, por el cual el mismo Bernat d’Anglesola reconocía haber recibido de los monjes de Poblet dos mulos in exercitu Tolose. A ellos cabría añadir el testamento del vizconde Hug de Bas, volens pergere in hoste ac persequi inimicos domini nostri regis, redactado el 28 de septiembre de ese mis- mo año (Montsalvatje, Francisco. Noticias Históricas. Olot: Imprenta de L. Bonet, 1889-1919: XI, 503-505, doc. no 560). 38. Ravier, Xavier. Le cartulaire de Bigorre: XIe-XIIIe siècle. París: CTHS, 2005: 45-46, doc. no 26; Tractats i negociacions di- plomàtiques...: I-1, 377-378, doc. no 92. Sobre el alcance de esta infeudación, véase: Reglá, Joan. Francia, la Corona de Aragón y la frontera pirenaica. La lucha por el Valle de Arán (siglos XIII-XIV). Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1951: I, 38 y II, 206, doc. on 120. 39. Altisent, Agustí. “À propos de l’expédition...”: 431-432. 40. I Libri Iurium della Repubblica di Genova: I/2, 231-244, docs. 362-363; Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel se- colo XII...”: 114-116; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 70-72. 41. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 66-67.

42. “El An. m c lxxvi, v dias a la issida de setembre, anec la ost de Tolosa, am lo comte, talar Monpeslier.” (“Seconde chronique”. Bulletin de la Société archéologique de Béziers, 3 (1839): 85).

484 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 hueste hacia Montpellier para asediar la ciudad y obtener de su sucesor, Guilhem VIII, su vasallaje

por el feudo de Melguelh, la expedición de Alfonso del Casto apud Tolosam sería la respuesta a n gl is h aquella acción. E in Y si Montpellier era de nuevo la manzana que reavivaba la discordia entre Tolosa y Barcelona, ¿cuáles eran los objetivos de Alfonso el Casto al dirigir su hueste contra Tolosa? ¿Asediar la capital del condado hasta someterla o realizar una demostración de fuerza para obligar a Raimon V a ne- gociar una paz duradera que le alejase de la alianza genovesa y de sus intereses sobre Melguelh y ubm i tted S Montpellier? El primer objetivo, conquistar la ciudad y el condado enemigos, era poco menos que no t quimérico, teniendo en cuenta la equilibrada correlación de fuerzas entre ambos contendientes durante la segunda fase de la Gran Guerra Occitana. A la vista del curso de los acontecimientos e x t s posteriores, parece más razonable que Alfonso el Casto persiguiera lo segundo, es decir, crear las T

condiciones que hicieran posible un nuevo escenario de paz y estabilidad en la región. the

En los planes de Alfonso el Casto estaría también atacar los dominios del vizconde Roger II o f

Trencavel, aliado de Raimon V, como castigo por su traición. La participación activa de Roger Tren- cavel al lado del conde de Tolosa Raimon V contra Alfonso el Casto está plenamente atestiguada 43 tanto por los homenajes que entre 1173 y 1175 le prestaron varios nobles de la región como por r i g in al s la fortificación de sus dominios del Carcassés y del Menerbés a partir de julio 1174/1175.44 Este O apoyo quizás fuera decisivo para contener el avance del ejército real si tenemos en cuenta que la hueste del conde de Tolosa se había desplazado a Montpellier. Por lo que respecta al curso de los acontecimientos, las fuentes documentales únicamente per- miten constatar que entre finales de octubre y los primeros días del mes de diciembre de 1175, el ejército real se había desplazado entre Comenge y Limós (Limoux), localidad en la que el rey firmó un documento, redactado según estilo y forma de la cancillería aragonesa, que confirma la participación aragonesa en su hueste.45

3. La paz de Tarascón (febrero de 1176)

Entre diciembre de 1175 y febrero de 1176, fecha de la paz de Tarascón entre Alfonso el Casto y Raimon V de Tolosa, perdemos las huellas del paso del ejército real por el Languedoc. Un docu- mento fechado en Perpinyà en noviembre del año de la Encarnación de 1174, en el que se dice que el rey Alfonso venía de Aragón para entrevistarse con el conde de Tolosa,46 resultaría clave para interpretar el silencio documental sobre la campaña si, en lugar de una datación pisana (1173) o florentina (1174), lo presuponemos redactado en noviembre de 1175 del estilo moderno. La entre- vista a la que alude el documento sería la conferencia del Mezol (Mézous), lugar cercano a Mont- pellier, en la que el conde Raimon V de Tolosa otorgó un juramento de protección a Guilhem VIII de Montpellier, en presencia de Alfonso el Casto, del arzobispo de Narbona, del obispo de Magalo-

43. Dovetto, Joseph. Cartulaire des Trencavel. Analyse détaillée des 617 actes (957-1214). Carcassone: Centre de recherches et d’information historiques des conferenciers de la Cite, 1997: 199-200. 44. Mahul, Alphonse. Cartulaire et archives des communes de l’ancien diocèse et de l’arrondissement administratif de Carcasson- ne. París: Didron, 1857-1882: V, 277. 45. ACA. Cancillería. Alfonso I. Pergaminos, 187. 46. El mes de noviembre de 1174, en Perpiñán, Alfonso II cedió al priorato de Santa Maria de Cassià (Besièrs), el hos- pital de Larsac situado en el vizcondado de Milhau (Roergue): “Actum est hoc apud Perpinianum, mense novembris, anno Do- minice Incarnationis MCLXXIIII, cum scilicet dominus rex, veniens de partibus Aragonie, ad colloquium comitis Raimundi tendebat” (Devic, Fredic; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VIII, cols. 286-287, doc. no 13.-XIII, II).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 485 na y del abad de Aniana, entre otras figuras relevantes.47 Según Devic y Vaissete, en esta cumbre

nglish se decidieron, bajo la presión del rey de Inglaterra y a espaldas de los genoveses, los preparativos y

E las condiciones de una paz estable entre Tolosa y Barcelona que enterrara de manera definitiva la in alianza tolosano-genovesa de abril de 1174 y, por tanto, las aspiraciones de esta potencia naval de hacerse con el control del litoral provenzal.48 De lo que no cabe duda es que la paz concluida el 18 de abril de 1176 no fue fruto de la impro- ubmitted visación. En un escenario escogido por su simbolismo, la isla del Ródano denominada de Gernega S (Jarnègues), en la parte baja de la villa de Tarascón, y ante una amplia representación política, n o t nobiliaria y eclesiástica de Cataluña, Aragón y Provenza, el rey Alfonso y el conde Raimon V de To- losa juraron un acuerdo alcanzado previamente gracias a los buenos oficios del maestro templario exts

T Hug Gausfred, al que habían asistido como árbitros, Ramon de Montcada, hijo del Gran Senescal

the difunto, Guiu Guerrejat de Montpellier y Arnau de Vilademuls, por parte del rey de Aragón, y la

o f vizcondesa Ermengarda de Narbona, Ismidon de Pauta y el condestable Guilhem de Sabran, por

parte del conde de Tolosa. En virtud de este tratado,49 Raimon V renunciaba a todos los derechos que podía reclamar sobre

riginals el condado de Provenza y los vizcondados de Milhau, Gavaudan y Carladés. A cambio, Alfonso O II se comprometía a indemnizarle con 3100 marcos de plata, empeñando para ello el castillo de Albaron —en poder de Raimon V desde antes de 1167— y las islas de la Camarga y de Lobièras (enfrente de Tarascon).50 En segundo lugar, las partes confirmaban y ratificaban el reparto de la Provenza de 1125 entre Ramon Berenguer III y Anfós Jordan, excepto que el rey y el conde, recíprocamente, se compro- metían a mantener el status quo de los territorios en litigio, esto es, del vizcondado de Gavaudan, poseído por el primero, y del condado de Melguelh y del castillo de Albaron, poseídos por el se- gundo, de modo que cada uno estaría en posesión de lo que ya tenía y en el futuro las respectivas diferencias sobre estos territorios se dirimirían de manera pacífica, mediante arbitrajes y acuerdos escritos. En resumen, el rey Alfonso renunciaba tácitamente a todos los derechos sobre el Languedoc derivados de la compra de Ramon Berenguer I, es decir, los dominios de los Trencavel (Carcassona, Rasés, Besièrs, Agda y Nimes) y sobre el condado de Melguelh, bajo soberanía efectiva de Tolosa desde 1172,51 y a cambio, reforzaba su dominio sobre el condado de Provenza y los vizcondados de Milhau, Carladés y Gavaudan.

47. Archives Municipales de Montpellier. AA 1. Liber instrumentorum memorialium, f. 35v; Liber instrumentorum memoria- lium, ed. Germain, Alexandre. Montpellier: Société archéologique de Montpellier « Jean Martel », 1884-1886: 153-154, doc. no 81. 48. Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 62. 49. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions...: 1-I, 378-380, doc. no 93; Comentado por Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 68 y VII, 10-11; Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 167-168; Abadal, Ramon d’. “La dominació de la casa comtal de Barcelona...”: 302. 50. Territorios que Bourrilly y Busquet sugieren estaban en poder de Raimon V: Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age. Histoire Politique. L’Église. Les Institutions (1112-1481). Marsella: Barlatier, 1924: 25. 51. El tratado de Tarascon dejó sin efecto la donación que Bertran Pelet había hecho del condado de Melguelh al rey de Aragón. En septiembre de 1176 (1175 del estilo pisano), poco antes de morir, Ermessenda de Melguelh legó el condado a su esposo Raimon V y a los hijos de éste, sancionando la donación del 12 de diciembre de 1172 (1171 del estilo pisano). (Devic, Claude; Vaissete, Joseph. Histoire Générale de Languedoc...: VI, 69). Aunque Melguelh permaneció bajo posesión efectiva de Tolosa entre 1172 y 1211 (Germain, Alexandre. Étude historique sur les comtés de Maguelone, de Substantion et de Melgueil. Montpellier: Société archéologique de Montpellier, 1854: 62-63), el contencioso sobre este

486 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 4. La sumisión de Niza y Forcauquier (1176-1177)

Aparentemente, la expedición del otoño de 1175 había alcanzado sus objetivos; sin embargo, n gl is h tras la firma de la paz de Tarascon en febrero de 1176, el ejército real no regresó a los territorios E in cispirenaicos de la Corona. Alfonso II, decidido a sacar el máximo rendimiento de aquella costosa campaña militar, se dirigió junto a sus hermanos, Ramon Berenguer y Sanç, y el gran maestro del Temple Hug Gausfred, hacia la Provenza oriental, con el objetivo de someter Niza, la ciudad rebelde en la que el conde Ramon Berenguer III de Provenza había encontrado la muerte en 1166.52 ubm i tted S Para asegurarse el éxito de la operación, en abril de este año firmó una alianza con Manfredo, no t marqués de Busca, al que concedió en feudo el lugar de Drola (valle de Aosta), con la Lombardía,53 y recabó el apoyo de algunas poblaciones enemigas de Niza, como Pelha (Peille), Pelhon (Peillon) e x t s 54 y Túrbia (Turbie). En junio de 1176 confirmó los privilegios consulares de Grassa y los derechos T 55 del obispo de Antibes, el gran aliado en la lucha contra los señores de esta villa. Desde allí, cabalgó the

con su hueste hasta en el lugar de Arinçana, en la desembocadura del Var, acampando a dos millas o f escasas de las murallas de la ciudad. Fue ese el lugar al que los cónsules de Niza acudieron con una propuesta de concordia que suponía esencialmente el reconocimiento de la soberanía de los condes

de Provenza sobre la ciudad a cambio de la confirmación de las instituciones consulares de Niza. r i g in al s El resultado final dista mucho de la idea de tratado entre iguales con la que la historiografía O nicense ha querido presentar la concordia de 1176.56 Por la definición dequerimonias , el rey impu- so a los cónsules una multa de 25.000 sueldos genoveses y la obligación de tributarle anualmente 10.000 sueldos más en concepto de alberga. Además, para evitar futuras revueltas, la milicia urbana fue integrada dentro de la hueste real al servicio de los intereses catalano-aragoneses en Provenza: la ciudad debería contribuir con 100 hombres montados a caballo a las cabalgadas que el rey hi- ciera desde el Var hasta la Sianha y con 50 hombres a las cabalgadas realizadas hasta el Ródano.57 El documento fue ratificado por los dos hermanos del rey, los nobles catalanes y aragoneses que les acompañaban, los maestros del Temple y del Hospital de Niza, los cónsules de la ciudad y los señores de Castellana y Grassa, dos villas que dependían económicamente tanto del comercio con Niza y las ciudades italianas como con Sant Honorat de Lerins, monasterio amigo protegido por los condes de Barcelona, al cual Jordi Ventura atribuye una influencia decisiva en la firma de este convenio.58 Una vez integrada Niza a la Corona y permaneciendo aún el ejército real en Provenza, Alfonso II consideró el momento propicio para anexionar el condado de Forcauquier, cuya sobera- territorio, uno de los principales caballos de batalla de la Gran Guerra Occitana entre Tolosa y Barcelona, continuó durante la década de 1180. 52. Pistarino, Geo. “Genova e l’Occitania nel secolo XII”: 104-111; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinen- ca...”: 62. 53. ACA. Cancillería. Liber Feudorum Maior, f. 87d-88; Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàti- ques...: 1-I, 380-381, doc. no 94; Zurita, Jerónimo. Anales de la historia...: I, lib. II, cap. 34. 54. A las que recompensó posteriormente con la confirmación de sus instituciones consulares. Gioffredo, Pietro.Storia delle Alpi Marittime, Monumenta Historiae Patriae. Turín: Augusta Taurinorum, 1839: 26, col. 454. 55. ADBR. Trésor de chartes des comtes de Provence. B, 288, YYY; Aurell, Martín. “L’éxpansion catalane en Provenze...”: 181. 56. Papon. Histoire Générale de Provence. París: 1778: IV, II, 252-253. Toselli, Jean Baptiste. Précis historique de Nice depuis sa fondation jusqu’en 1860. Niza: Cauvin, 1867: I, 35. 57. Archives Municipales de Nice. AA, 1/01; ADBR. Trésor de chartes des comtes de Provence. B, 287, 10 A; Gioffredo, Pietro. Storia delle Alpi Marittime: 26, col. 451-452; Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, 381-382, doc. no 95. 58. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 168-169.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 487 nía un privilegio imperial otorgado en 1162 por Federico Barbarroja al conde de Provenza Ramon 59 nglish Berenguer III le reconocía en el plano teórico. Este acto, sin embargo, no únicamente no había

E tenido ninguna consecuencia en la práctica, sino que, además, una nueva investidura imperial in otorgada por el emperador Barbarroja al conde Guilhem IV en 1174 lo había anulado de derecho.60 Decidido a recuperar la soberanía perdida, el año 1177 Alfonso I envió a Hug de Baus y Raimon de Vilanova a exigir al conde Guilhem IV de Forcauquier la prestación de homenaje recordándole ubmitted la infeudación del condado hecha por el emperador al conde Ramon Berenguer III de Provenza. S Como cabía esperar, el conde rechazó los embajadores declarando depender sólo de la jurisdicción n o t del emperador en virtud del precepto imperial de 1174, que revocaba la investidura de 1162. A la negativa de Guilhem IV a reconocer la soberanía provenzal sobre Forcauquier, Alfonso el exts

T Casto respondió con la organización de un gran ejército que, tras cruzar la Durença, se apoderó de

the Pertús, remontó por el interior del condado y tomó varias plazas fuertes hasta poner cerco a la ca-

61 o f pital. La rápida intervención del rey dividió a la nobleza del condado y al episcopado y los nobles

que permanecían fieles al conde aconsejaron a Guilhem que abandonara la lucha y reconociera la soberanía provenzal. La mediación de las jerarquías eclesiásticas del obispado fue clave para que los

riginals dos contendientes llegaran a un acuerdo de principios que ponía fin a las hostilidades y enviaba a O la más que previsible derrota de la guarnición que permanecía leal al conde. Guilhem IV se avenía a someterse al conde de Provenza, a jurarle fidelidad y lealtad, a ser su amigo y aliado. Alfonso II, por su parte, renunciaba a tomar represalias contra los señores que habían tomado partido a favor del conde de Forcauquier. Los dos mandatarios se comprometían a no suscitar ninguna guerra en el futuro y emplazaban a entrevistarse en una ciudad situada en el límite de los condados de Pro- venza y de Forcauquier para confirmar el acuerdo de pacificación y fijar la forma del homenaje y el montante de los daños causados ​​por las tropas del rey sobre las tierras de Guilhem IV. El lugar escogido para la cumbre fue el castillo de Sault. Allí, en septiembre de 1177/1178, Alfonso el Casto y Guilhem IV acabaron de rebajar las condiciones de la concordia: el rey aceptó que el conde de Forcauquier le prestara el homenaje por procura, mientras que éste condonó al soberano las pérdidas sufridas durante la guerra. Poco después, Guilhem IV envió a Alfonso el Casto un procurador que, en una solemne ceremonia presidida por Hug de Baus y su hijo Raimon, le prestó homenaje y declaró que el condado de Forcauquier dependía del condado de Provenza.62

59. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 61-62. 60. ADBR. Trésor de chartes des comtes de Provence. B 287, R7; Tournadre. Guy de. Histoire du comté de Forcalquier (XIIe siècle). París: August Picard, 1930: 78-79; Fournier, Paul. Le royaume d’Arles et de Vienne (1138-1378). Étude sur la for- mation territoriale de la France dans l’est et le sud-est. París: Alphonse Picard, 1891: 59. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 77-78. 61. Según Nostradamus, Columbi y Ruffi, la expedición tuvo lugar en 1178 (año que podría corresponder a 1177 según el cómputo pisano). Nostradamus, Caesar de. Histoire et chronique de Provence. Lyon: Sim. Rigaud, 1614: 146-147; Colum- bi, Giovanni. Opera Varia: Guillelmus Junior, comes Forcalquerii Lyon: Canier, 1662; Ruffi, Antoine de.Histoire des comtés de Provence. Aix: Chez Jean Roize, 1655: 79. Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 26, sitúan la campaña de Forcauquier antes de la primavera de 1177. 62. Tournadre, Guy de. Histoire du comté de Forcalquier (XIIe siècle)...; Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 78-79.

488 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 5. Reflexiones finales: La corona de Aragón después de las campañas de 1175-1177

Aunque sería necesaria una amplia encuesta sobre las consecuencias de índole política y ad- n gl is h ministrativa que tuvieron las campañas de 1175-1177 a uno y otro lado de los Pirineos, podemos E in apuntar dos de las más evidentes e inmediatas: el afianzamiento del poder personal del rey sobre los dominios ultrapirenaicos, especialmente notorio en el caso de Provenza, y el zenit alcanzado por la expansión territorial ultrapirenaica de la Corona de Aragón. Tras las exitosas campañas de Niza y Forcauquier, en diciembre de 1178 Alfonso el Casto en- ubm i tted S comendó los condados de Provenza, Gavaudan y Roergue a su hermano Ramon Berenguer IV, no t reservándose bajo su dominio directo los estratégicos castillos de Tarascon y Albaron, la mitad del monedaje de Provenza, la villa de Milhau, y la facultad de mandar absolutamente cuando estuviera e x t s en persona en Provenza, Rodés y Gavaudan. El conde Ramon Berenguer IV se comprometía a no T

hacer ni enajenar nada sin el consejo y la voluntad del rey y renunciaba a los bienes heredados de the

su padre —los condados de Carcassona, Rasés y Cerdaña (1162)— mientras durara la encomienda o f del condado de Provenza.63 Esta delegación del poder político sobre Provenza se complementaba con una delegación de

los asuntos económicos provenzales en la figura del procurador real Guiu Guerrejat, hermano de r i g in al s Guilhem VII de Montpellier y el nombramiento de bailes locales y el traslado de la capitalidad del O condado de Arle (Arles) a Ais (Aix)64. Situada en un centro neurálgico de comunicaciones, esta pequeña villa era un punto estratégico desde el cual el rey podría llevar a cabo su política expan- sionista hacia la Provenza marítima y oriental, aplastar las revueltas los nobles alpinos y neutralizar el poder creciente de las ciudades marítimas. La proximidad de Ais a Marsella permitiría, además, a Alfonso I y a sus hermanos vigilar de cerca y mantener bajo control el patriciado de esta ciudad, hostil al poder condal.65 A finales de 1178 Alfonso I gobernaba personalmente un vasto conglomerado de territorios que, parafraseando a Roger de Hoveden, se extendía por la costa desde la sierra del Montsià, al sur de Tortosa, hasta Niza.66 El proyecto de conquista de la Provenza definido por el tratado de reparto de 1125 había concluido con la sumisión de Niza y Forcauquier. Guilhem de Montpellier y la viz- condesa de Narbona permanecían como vasallos y aliados fieles de Alfonso I. Los vizcondes Roger de Besièrs y Bernat Ató de Nimes continuaban dentro de la órbita tolosana, pero pronto las cir- cunstancias los volverían a hacer decantar temporalmente hacia la sumisión a Barcelona (1179).67 El reino de Aragón se proyectaba tierra adentro hasta las fronteras con Navarra, y al otro lado del Pirineo incluía el Bearn —bajo tutela aragonesa desde 1154—, la Bigòrra, Comenge y el valle

63. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, doc. no 97; Bourrilly, Victor-Louis; Bus- quet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 27. 64. Ripart, Laurent. “Les bayles de Provence: genèse d'une institution princière”, De part et d'autre des Alpes. Les châtelains des princes à la fin du Moyen Âge, Guido Castelnuovo, Olivier Mattéoni, dirs. París: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2006: 71. 65. Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 186-187; Aurell, Martin. “Els fonaments socials de la do- minació catalana a Provença sota Alfons el Cast (1166-1196)”. Acta Historica et Archaeologica Mediaevalia, 5-6 (1984): 104-106. 66. Et in Hispania illa saracenica sunt quatuor reges principales: quorum unus dicitur rex de Cordres, id est Corduba.[...] Alter rex dicitur Gant; tertius dicitur rex de Murcia; quartus dicitur rex de Valencia. Et terra illius protenditur usque ad montem qui dicitur Muncian [Montsià]; et mons ille dividit terram paganorum a terra Christianorum, sicilicet terra regis Arragoniae; et terra regis Arragoniae incipit a monte illo qui dicitur Muncian, et protenditur ultra civitatem Nice. Et a civitate de Nice incipit terra imperatoris Romanorum... (Hoveden, Roger of. “Chronica”, Chronica Magistri Rogeri de Houedene, ed. William Stubbs. Londres: Long- mans, 1868-1871: 52, 4 vols.). 67. Benito, Pere. “L’expansió territorial ultrapirinenca...”: 82-86.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 489 de Arán, como territorios feudatarios, mientras el Rosellón (1172) y el Pallars Jussà (1177) habían

nglish acabado por incorporarse a los dominios directos de los condes de Barcelona. En el interior de

E Occitania, la herencia provenzal incluía los vizcondados de Milhau y Gavaudan, la Roergue y la in mitad del Carladés, territorios por los que el conde Hug de Rodés había declarado feudatario del conde rey (1167).68 En el sur, la campaña de Alfonso el Casto sobre Valencia y Murcia de 1172 había asegurado la ubmitted continuidad del pago de parias de estos dos reinos, ya bajo dominio almohade.69 Posteriormente, S las campañas occitanas de 1175-1177 no supusieron, como cabría esperar, una renuncia temporal n o t a los proyectos de expansión peninsular y mediterránea ni una interrupción de las expediciones. Más bien al contrario, parecen haberlos estimulado.70 Es conocido, por ejemplo, que hacia febrero exts

T de 1176 el rey se proponía conquistar el Puig de Santa Maria y contemplaba apoderarse de la ciu- 71 the dad de Valencia. En junio de 1178, tras la sumisión de Forcauquier, resucitó el viejo proyecto de

o f conquista de las Islas Baleares al pactar con el conde siciliano Alfonso la cesión de la mitad de la isla

de Mallorca como recompensa por su participación en la escuadra del rey Guillermo II de Sicilia.72 En agosto de 1177 asistió a Alfonso VIII de Castilla en el sitio de Cuenca y a principios de 1179,

riginals tras dirigir una expedición contra Valencia y Murcia, firmó con el monarca castellano el tratado de O Cazola que dividía las respectivas áreas de expansión peninsular.73 Aunque algunos de estos objetivos no se alcanzaron o fueron aparcados, no cabe duda que hacia 1180 Alfonso el Casto se encontraba al frente de uno de los ejércitos más poderosos de Oc- cidente, una hueste capaz de desplegarse rápidamente a centenares de quilómetros de su origen hacia los cuatro puntos cardinales, de servir a los objetivos e intereses de la Corona y de asistir al mismo tiempo a los monarcas aliados en sus guerras particulares. Este ejército, que a lo largo de la década de 1180 prestaría ayuda a los Plantagenet en Aquitania, fue una pieza clave tanto de la expansión territorial ultra y cispirenaica de la Corona como del fortalecimiento de la autoridad y del poder real que se observa con nitidez después de 1178. En este momento, la denominación de “emperador dels Pirineus” que Antoni Rovira i Virgili atribuyó a la figura de Alfonso el Casto en el apogeo de su reinado,74 cobra inesperadamente actua- lidad historiográfica. Se ha discutido si la Corona de Aragón fue o no un imperio en los momentos álgidos de su expansión territorial.75 A raíz de lo expuesto, no existe ningún problema para aceptar que hacia 1180 el espacio gobernado por el primer monarca que reunía en su persona los títulos

68. Riu, Manuel; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Tractats i negociacions diplomàtiques...: 1-I, doc. no 86; Saige, Gustave; Dienne, Louis de. Documents historiques relatifs à la vicomté de Carlat. Mónaco: Imprimerie de Mónaco, 1900: II, 7-9, doc. no 5; 22-23, doc. no 10. 69. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 132. 70. Coincido con Martín Alvira en que las expansiones occitana, peninsular y mediterránea de Alfonso el Casto y de su sucesor Pedro el Católico no pueden concebirse como disyuntivas excluyentes, ya que se desarrollaron simultánea- mente (Alvira Cabrer, Martín. El jueves de Muret...: 578-579). 71. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 133. 72. Zurita. Jerónimo de. Anales...: lib. II, cap. 36; Miret, Joaquín. “Itinerario del rey Alfonso I de Cataluña, II en Aragón”. Boletín de la Real Academia de Buenas Letras de Barcelona, 2 (1903-1904): 404, que da la referencia “Varia 2 de Alfonso I, f. 66”. 73. Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 179-182, 192-195. 74. Rovira, Antoni. Historia Nacional de Catalunya. Barcelona: Edicions Pàtria, 1922-1934: IV, 426 (7 vols); Sobrequés, Santiago. Els grans comtes de Barcelona. Barcelona: Vicens Vives, 1961: 90; Ventura, Jordi. Alfons el Cast...: 270-271. 75. Sobre esta cuestión, véase: Hillgarth, Jocelyn N. “El problema del imperio catalano-aragonés, 1229-1327”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 10 (1980): 145-159; Aurell, Martin. “Autour du débat historiographique...”: 33; Alvira, Martín. El jueves de Muret...: 72-73, 166-169.

490 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 de rey de Aragón, conde de Barcelona y marqués de Provenza, constituía una estructura políti-

ca similar al denominado Imperio Plantagenet: una construcción formada por una amalgama de n gl is h principados y señoríos, algunos de los cuales, por más que teóricamente encuadrados dentro de E in las fronteras del reino de Francia y del Imperio germánico, actuaban con independencia política y, de grado o por la fuerza, en el curso de la Gran Guerra Occitana habían asumido la soberanía del rey de Aragón en el marco jurídico de las relaciones feudales.76 Hacia 1180 dominios patrimo- niales gobernados directamente por el rey o, por delegación regia, por alguno de sus hermanos, y ubm i tted S estados vasallos se yuxtaponían en un mosaico territorial que abarcaba el arco del Mediterráneo no t noroccidental, “desde (la sierra de) Montsià hasta Niza”. Las prestigiosas armas del rey de Aragón empezaban a teñir de oro y gules las enseñas de sus dominios patrimoniales77 y a ser adoptadas, por e x t s 78 mimetismo, por algunos de los territorios vasallos, imprimiendo una unidad simbólica a todo este T

vasto espacio político. the

Las campañas de 1175-1177 suponen el momento culminante de la expansión ultrapirenaica o f de la Corona catalanoaragonesa y el inicio de una etapa de afianzamiento del poder real sobre el conjunto de sus dominios sin precedentes. La expedición sobre Tolosa y la submisión de Niza y

Forcauquier encumbraron a Alfonso el Casto como uno de los mandatarios más poderosos de Oc- r i g in al s cidente. Tras las fulgurantes victorias de su hueste, el rey sacaría partido del prestigio y de la fama O alcanzados para afianzar su poder sobre la aristocracia local, resucitar viejos proyectos de expan- sión territorial, prestar colaboración a sus aliados, desafiar al emperador alemán,79 y romper con la legitimidad franca escrupulosamente mantenida durante más de trescientos años.80

76. Los paralelismos con el imperio de los Plantagenet son evidentes. Sobre el uso del término imperio referido a los dominios de los Plantagenet y el debate historiográfico que ha suscitado, véase: Gilissen, John. “La notion d’empire dans l’histoire universelle”, Les grandes Empires (Recueils de la societé Jean Bodin). Bruselas: Encyclopédique, 1973: XXXI, 808; Aurell, Martin. L’Empire des Plantagenêt. 1154-1224...: 9-12 y 290. 77. Uno de los ejemplos más antiguos y mejor documentados es el de Milhau, en la Roergue. En 1187 Alfonso el Casto concedió a los cónsules de la ciudad un privilegio de uso de la suscripción y de las armas reales en el sello municipal: Concedimus namque sigillum commune consulibus et communi cum subscriptione nostra et sua, et eciam vexillum nostrum (Figeac, Champollion. Collection des documents inédits sur l’Histoire de France. París: Imprimerie Royale, 1843: II). Sobre el sello de Milhau, véase: Framond, Martin de. “Aux origines du sceau de ville et de juridiction : les premiers sceaux de la ville de Millau”. Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes, 147 (1989): 87-122. 78. El condado de Foix, por ejemplo. Véase: Calicó, Francesc Xavier. “En torno al origen del escudo de armas de los pa- los llamados comúnmente barras”. Gaceta Numismática, 61 (1981); y Menéndez, Faustino. “Palos de oro y gules”. Studia in Honorem Prof. M. de Riquer. Barcelona: Jaume Vallcorba (Quaderns Crema), 1991: IV, 669-704. 79. Al no asistir a la ceremonia de coronación de Federico Barbarroja como rey de Borgoña, oficiada por el arzobispo de Arle en la iglesia de San Trófimo el 30 de julio de 1178. Fournier, Paul.Le royaume d’Arles...: 62-63; Bourrilly, Victor- Louis; Busquet, Raoul. La Provence au Moyen Age...: 26-27; Aurell, Martin. “L’expansion catalane en Provence...”: 181. 80. Poco después de la muerte de Luis VII de Francia (18 de septiembre de 1180) un concilio provincial de obispos reunidos en Tarragona a raíz de la celebración de una corte plenaria presidida por el rey, decidió cambiar el sistema cronográfico oficial de los documentos catalanes, hasta entonces basado en el cómputo de los años de los reinados de los reyes francos, por el sistema de los años de la Encarnación de Jesucristo, adoptando el estilo de cómputo denominado florentino. Sobre las connotaciones políticas de esta decisión, véase: Zimmerman, Michel. “Les rapports de la France et de la Catalogne du Xe au XIIe siècle”, Mélanges de la Bibliothèque Espagnole. Paris 1977-1978. Madrid : Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores, 1982: 81-99; Zimmerman, Michel. “La datation des documents catalans du IXe au XIIe siècle: un itinéraire politique”. Annales du Midi, 93 (1981): 345-375.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 478-491. ISSN 1888-3931 491 GUERRA Y FISCALIDAD. EN TORNO A LAS SOLDADAS

nglish DESDE EL REINADO DE ALFONSO VIII.

E CASTILLA HASTA FINES DEL SIGLO XIII in

Carlos Estepa ubmitted Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas S n o t exts

T Resumen the

o f Analizamos el fenómeno de las soldadas desde el reinado de Alfonso VIII, sobre todo los tes-

timonios de las fuentes narrativas, la Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla y De rebus Hispaniae de Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada. Las soldadas (stipendia) como pagos a los milites son un elemento fun-

riginals damental para percibir la estrecha relación entre la Guerra y la Fiscalidad. El fenómeno ha de O enmarcarse en el más general de desarrollo de la fiscalidad real muy importante ya en el reinado de Alfonso VIII. Un siglo después las Rentas de Sancho IV (1290-1292) nos permiten deducir una gran extensión de las soldadas, por ejemplo las soldadas en ciudades y villas andaluzas, así como la asignación de importantes cantidades a los ricoshombres para distribuir entre sus hombres.

Sin necesidad de recurrir a la casi expresión tópica de que la sociedad de la España medieval era una sociedad para la guerra no es menos cierto que la guerra en sus diversas manifestaciones era en ella un elemento esencial1. Sin duda la fiscalidad estuvo sumamente condicionada por la guerra, dadas las necesidades que generaba para su desenvolvimiento y que afectaban de una manera muy especial a los guerreros o milites que constituían el armazón de un ejército2. Nuestro propósito es aproximarnos al tema de la fiscalidad y la guerra, sobre todo en el período coincidente con el largo reinado de Alfonso VIII rey de Castilla (1158-1214), pero también em- pleando la información posterior en aras de un mejor conocimiento sobre la interpenetración de la guerra y de la fiscalidad así como recurriendo a un análisis comparativo.

1. La fiscalidad regia bajo Alfonso VIII

El reinado de Alfonso VIII (1158-1214) fue muy importante para la constitución de la fiscalidad real. En otro lugar hemos puesto de relieve este aspecto y cómo mediante la consolidación de unas determinadas tributaciones se establecieron las bases para el ulterior desarrollo de la fiscalidad3.

1. Así el clásico artículo de Lourie, Elena. “A society organised for war: Medieval Spain”. Past & Present, 35 (1966): 54-76. 2. Sobre la guerra en la España cristiana durante la Alta y la Plena Edad Media: Isla, Amancio. Ejército, sociedad y política en la Península Ibérica entre los siglos VII y XI. Madrid: Ministerio de Defensa, Secretaria General Tecnica-Consejo Superior de Investigacion Cientificas, 2010; García Fitz, Francisco.Castilla y León frente al Islam. Estrategias de expansión y tácticas militares (siglos XI-XIII). Sevilla: Universidad de Sevilla, 2001; García Fitz, Francisco. Relaciones políticas y guerra. La experiencia castellano-leonesa frente al Islam. Siglos XI-XIII. Sevilla: Universidad de Sevilla, 2002. 3. Estepa, Carlos. “La construcción de la fiscalidad real”,Poder real y sociedad: estudios sobre el reinado de Alfonso VIII (1188-1214), Carlos Estepa, Ignacio Álvarez, José María Santamarta. León: Universidad de León, 2011: 65-94.

492 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 Es algo que tendremos en cuenta como marco en el presente trabajo. De otro lado, que durante

este importante reinado la guerra condicionara el desarrollo de la fiscalidad real parece oportuno n gl is h considerarlo como un punto de partida en nuestro análisis. E in Para estudiar el tema de la guerra y fiscalidad existe un problema de fuentes. La información sobre los aspectos fiscales en esta época suele ser escasa. Por ejemplo, de los 1.824 diplomas reales editados para el reinado del monarca capeto Felipe II Augusto (1180-1223) sólo 101 contienen no- ticias de valor económico4. De los 957 diplomas válidos para el reinado de Alfonso VIII hay 351, es ubm i tted S decir algo más de la tercera parte, con algún contenido fiscal5. Esto que en principio parece muy no t importante para el estudio merece cierto comentario. De estos diplomas los más abundantes son aquellos en los que se contiene una exención más e x t s o menos general, en total 142 documentos. Suelen ser los más utilizados para conocer cuáles eran T

las tributaciones, pues al establecer una exención se indicaban las distintas cargas por su nombre. the

También son numerosos los diplomas que contienen una exención de portazgo (67), la satisfacción o f de alguna prestación o tributación (56) y las concesiones de portazgos (46). La exención de presta- ciones militares se da en 56 diplomas, pero ello, como veremos en el caso de la fonsadera, no tiene

por qué tratarse del tema que ahora estudiamos. La concesión sobre salinas queda registrada en 40 r i g in al s de los diplomas reales, la concesión general de las rentas reales en 36 y la concesión sobre tributos O en 32 diplomas reales6. Con todo, el testimonio más importante para nosotros se da entre los 8 diplomas que contienen como tema las asignaciones desde las rentas reales, sobre todo el diploma de 1173 (julio, 30) rela- tivo a los stipendia (soldadas) a los fratres de la Orden de Santiago7. Sin embargo, las fuentes narrativas nos ofrecen información sobre los stipendia o pagos a los guerreros. Así podemos comentar los pasajes dedicados a éstos por la Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla y por el De rebvs Hispaniae de Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada, obras escritas durante el reinado de Fernando III, rey de Castilla desde 1217 y rey de León desde 12308. Particularmente, hay un pasa- je de D. Rodrigo sobre lo concedido por Alfonso VIII a los guerreros ultramontanos que acudieron a la campaña que iba a culminar con la batalla de Las Navas de Tolosa el 16 de julio de 1212. Este testimonio es interesante pero contiene enormes exageraciones y distorsiones, ya que del texto se deduciría que el rey castellano se gastó algo así como tres millones y medio de maravedís oro en esta campaña, tratándose esto sólo de lo pagado a los cruzados extrapeninsulares. De un testimonio de este tipo sólo se deben tener en cuenta los aspectos cualitativos, al tiempo que también resulta pertinente su comparación con otros casos de desembolso de grandes pagos. En la obra de Jiménez de Rada hay otros pasajes en los que se emplea el término stipendia. Así al describir la actuación de las tropas aragonesas de Alfonso I (1104-1134) en León, contextualizando el pillaje sacrílego practicado, nos dice: “y aunque el botín había sido abundante, sin embargo em-

4. Ehlers, Joachim. Geschichte Frankreichs im Mittelalter. Darmstadt: Wiss. Buchges, 2009: 143. 5. Estepa, Carlos. “Construcción...”: 89 (cuadro). 6. Como es obvio un documento puede contener más de uno de los supuestos presentados en el cuadro conjunto. 7. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla en la época de Alfonso VIII. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1960: II, 307-308 (doc. nº 184). 8. Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla, ed. Luis Charlo. Cádiz: Universidad de Cádiz, 1984; Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebvs Hispanie sive Historia Gothica, ed. Juan Fernández. Turnhout: Brepols, 1987. En cuanto a la traducción en tanto no se diga lo contrario citaremos la de Charlo Brea en la mencionada edición y la de Juan Fernández Valverde en Rodrigo Jimenez de Rada. Historia de los hechos de España, ed. Juan Fernández. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1989.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 493 pezaron a menguar las soldadas por la escasez de dinero”9. También aparece el término al referir

nglish que el abad de Fitero trajo a Calatrava rebaños de vacas y ovejas y muchos utensilios “y también

E cantidad de combatientes, a quienes proporcionó soldada y viático”10. En ambos ejemplos stipendia in está utilizado en un sentido técnico para los pagos a los guerreros, bien sea por el rey o por otra persona que los dirige. En el segundo caso, además, se distingue entre este pago y el aprovisio- namiento o entrega de otros bienes necesarios para el ejercicio de sus funciones, aquí utilizando ubmitted el término viático. Por otro lado, hay un empleo de stipendia, en un sentido general como pago o S salario, que tiene un significado más amplio y que por tanto no tiene porqué referirse siempre a la n o t función militar. D. Rodrigo lo utiliza para los maestros del naciente Estudio de Palencia: exts

T ...et magistros omnium facultatum Palencie congregauit, quibus et magna stipendia est largitus, ut omni studium cupienti quasi manna in os influeret sapiencia cuiuslibet facultatis11 . the o f

Los testimonios recogidos de la obra de Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada denotan una utilización de los stipendia militares en la época en que escribe, lo que no tendría por qué transferirse automáti-

riginals camente a épocas anteriores. No obstante, en los casos referidos puede tomarse como plenamente O válido en el sentido de que efectivamente ya hubiera tales stipendia o pagos en moneda en los tiempos a los que alude. Precisamente es muy reveladora la noticia sobre una mengua de estos pagos en el caso de los guerreros aragoneses, si bien no hay que olvidar que el acento está puesto en explicar cómo debido a los aragoneses se produjeron los grandes pillajes que relata el cronista. Para Sánchez-Albornoz en época visigoda hubo cesiones in stipendio datas12 pero es muy inve- rosímil que éstas sean antecedente de las concesiones prestimoniarias que se dieron después en Castilla y León. En cualquier caso, además, los stipendia que mencionamos eran pagos en metálico, por lo que sólo fueron posibles al darse una disponibilidad de numerario. Parece plausible pensar que el desarrollo del sistema de parias en el siglo XI facilitara el fenómeno de las percepciones esti- pendiarias o de soldadas13. En cualquier caso, el servicio de carácter militar ejercido por los vasallos reales desde el período astur comportaba que éstos hubieran recibido prestimonios o soldadas. En el privilegio de Alfonso VIII a la Orden de Santiago de 1173 se concede a ésta el 5% de los estipendios procedentes de los militibus y de otros vasallos, es decir por 50 áureos, 2,5, por 100, 514. Ello muestra no sólo una importante concesión a los privilegiados sino que, y esto es lo que ahora más nos interesa, existía un régimen de percepción de soldadas en moneda por los vasallos de la

9. ...et licet incliti essent predis, tamen ceperunt deffecti pecunie stipendia minorari (Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de re- bus...: VII, capítulo. II). 10. ...necnon et multitudinem bellatorum, quibus stipendia et uiatica ministrauit... (Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de re- bus...: VII, capítulo. XIIII). 11. “y reunió en Palencia a los maestros de todas las materias, a los que concedió amplias remuneraciones para que el saber de cualquier materia fluyera como el maná en la boca de todo el que deseara aprender”. (Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VII, capítulo. XXXIIII). 12. Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. El “stipendium” hispano-godo y los orígenes del beneficio prefeudal. Buenos Aires: Facultad de Filosofía y Letras, 1947 y Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. Estudios Visigodos. Roma: Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo, 1971: 253-375. 13. Relaciona las parias con los pagos de soldadas Grassotti, Hilda. Las instituciones feudovasalláticas en León y Castilla. Spoleto: Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 1969: II, 738 y siguientes. 14. ...computationem de stipendiis quecumque militibus uel aliis uasallis meis erogauero, scilicet, de quinquaginta aureis, duos et dimidium, et de centum, quinque, et deinceps secundum huius computationem.

494 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 nobleza, aquí registrados como milites y otros15. Este sistema, en mi opinión, debía de encontrarse

ya bastante consolidado para poder fijar una cantidad precisa sobre su monto. n gl is h

Por otro lado, nos preguntamos si hay alguna relación entre las soldadas y la fonsadera. Como E in es bien sabido la fonsadera era el tributo sustitutivo de la prestación de acudir al fonsado, enten- dido éste como la general obligación de los hombres libres de acudir a la hueste convocada por el Rey16. Sánchez-Albornoz consideraba que esta conmutación se produjo ya en la segunda mitad del siglo IX pues para el insigne historiador tal tributo aparecía ya en documentos de los años ubm i tted S veinte del siglo X17. Sin embargo, éstos son falsificaciones, la fonsadera no consta en el período no t astur y nos inclinamos a pensar que tal conmutación no se produjo hasta el reinado de Alfonso VI (1065-1109), siendo entonces cuando registramos de manera generalizada el tributo conocido e x t s 18 como fonsadera . Al surgir la fonsadera ésta no sería satisfecha por los infanzones y en general T

por los que entonces empiezan a configurarse como los nobles, pudiendo además extenderse tales the

privilegios a la naciente caballería villana. De cara a las exigencias militares podemos decir que en o f tanto que los nobles servían al Rey como milites, otros hombres libres pagarían la fonsadera, si bien cabe observar que desde el siglo XII fueron abundantes las exenciones de pagar la fonsadera para

los hombres encuadrados en los señoríos no reales. r i g in al s Con la aparición de los señoríos de behetría se pudo dar el fenómeno de que los hombres ra- O dicados en los mismos quedaran exentos de la fonsadera, en tanto que su posible contribución militar era asumida por sus señores y diviseros, quienes ejercían las funciones militares, algo que quedó reflejado en el Libro Becerro de las Behetrías de 1352 y que, con la misma justificación, también se dice para los señoríos de las Ordenes Militares19. Todo esto nos lleva a decir que no hay relación entre los pagos de las soldadas y la fonsadera, esto es que el pago de las soldadas se nutriera de la fonsadera. Únicamente se deben tener en cuen- ta algunas circunstancias concretas en el caso de la caballería villana de las Extremaduras. Así en la Crónica de la población de Avila, texto de mediados del siglo XIII20, se contiene un pa- saje relativo a comienzos del reinado de Alfonso X, del que se deduce que los caballeros de Ávila podían percibir parte de la fonsadera satisfecha por los que no iban a la hueste, parte que en este caso percibía el propio monarca21. De manera más clara podemos señalar el privilegio otorgado

15. Dado que milites se utilizaría para el conjunto de la nobleza, por tanto de una manera particular aludiendo a la nobleza inferior, los otros serían los miembros más destacados de la nobleza. 16. García de Valdeavellano, Luis. Curso de historia de las instituciones españolas. De los orígenes a la Baja Edad Media. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1968: 621-622. 17. Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. “El ejército y la guerra en el reino asturleonés”, Ordinamenti militari in Occidente nell’ alto Medioevo, XV Settimana di Spoleto. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto Medioevo, 1968: I, 293-428. 18. Estepa, Carlos. “En torno a la fonsadera y a las cargas de origen público”. Stvdia Historica. Historia Medieval, 30 (2012): 25-41. 19. Martínez, Gonzalo, ed. Libro Becerro de las Behetrías. Leon: Centro de Estudios e Investigacion “San Isidoro”, 1981; Estepa, Carlos. Las behetrías castellanas. Valladolid: Junta de Castilla y León, 2003: I, 240-242. 20. Crónica de la población de Ávila, ed. Amparo Hernández. Valencia: Editorial Anubar, 1966. Sobre esta obra, Gautier- Dalche, Jean. “Fiction, réalité et idéologie dans le Cronica de la población de Avila”. Razo. Cahiers d’Etudes Médiévales, 1 (1979): 24-32. 21. “E llegaron todos a Ellón, assí que ovieron y una carta del rey que se tornasen los moros a Avila, e quel diesen dos mill maravedís. E los cavalleros entendieron que seríe gran deserviçio del rey si se tornasen los moros, e entendiendo que el rey avíe menester los dineros, ovieron su acuerdo e embiaron a Gómez Nuñós e a Gonçalo Matheos al rey, que era en Vitoria, quel pidiessen merçed, quel pidiessen que los moros fuesen en su serviçio; e ya que los dineros mucho menester los avíe, que embiase luego a Avila a cojer la fonsadera de los que non pudieron venir en la hueste, e que abríe él luego los sus dineros. E en razón de aquellos dos mill maravedís, que le quitavan los caballeros la meatad de la fon-

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 495 por Alfonso X a los concejos de la Extremadura en 1263, conforme al que los caballeros villanos se

nglish convertían en vasallos directos y exclusivos del rey o del príncipe heredero y habían de recibir una

E soldada vasallática anual de 500 sueldos22. in

2. El pago de soldadas según las fuentes narrativas ubmitted Nos referiremos ahora a los pasajes de las fuentes narrativas que refieren el pago de soldadas S por Alfonso VIII, en ocasión de la campaña de Las Navas. El texto más explícito es el trasmitido por n o t D. Rodrigo en el capítulo IV del libro VIII de su Historia: exts

T ...Cum enim essent ultramontani plusquam decem milia equitum et centum milia peditum, unicuique militi dabantur omni die XXti solidos usuales, pediti uero Ve solidi; mulieres, paruuli, debiles et ceteri ad bellum inepti the non erant ab hac gracia alieni. Hec erant que in comuni et publice donabantur, preter donaria priuata, que o f

sui quantitate hunc numerum excedebant, que magnatibus non diurna distribucione, set pociori summa per nobilis regis nuncios mitebantur. Hiis muneribus cumulabatur equorum innumerosa generositas, pannorum iocunda uarietas, que omnia tenacitatis curua seueritas uultu propicio non poterat intueri. Hiis autem omnibus si iungantur regibus oblata donaria, suis distribuita stipendia, plus modus dantis et ylaritas meruit quam hiis riginals omnibus emi possit. Et ad hec omnia, ne gens alienigena expedicionis omnibus indigeret, omnibus tentoria et O eorum uehicula est largitus. Addidit etiam graciam gracie et cibariorum uehicula cum ceteris necessariis, LXa milia summas et ultra cum sumariis erogauit23.

Como ya dijimos la cantidad deducible de esta descripción, y que sólo sería una parte de lo entregado, serían unos tres millones y medio de maravedís, algo que podemos calificar, sin reparo, como imposible, a tenor, ciertamente, con unas cifras de los combatientes desmesuradas para un ejército del siglo XIII. A modo de comparación, digamos que el emperador Enrique VI (1190-1197) en la Cruzada preparada en 1195-1197 daba 30 onzas de oro (unos 840 gr.) por cada caballero, así como el mantenimiento anual para éste y dos escuderos y 10 onzas (280 gr.) por cada soldado de a pie, con el mantenimiento anual. Se trataba de 1.500 caballeros y si calculamos unos 4.000 peones, cifras más aceptables, los pagos alcanzarían un total 2.380 kg. oro, equivalentes a unos 600.000 maravedís oro24. Una cantidad monetaria semejante fueron los 100.000 marcos de plata exigidos inicialmente como rescate de Ricardo I tras su prisión por el duque de Austria Leopoldo V y el emperador Enrique VI (1193) que equivalen a unos 20.000 kg. de plata; después se estableció la entrega de 150.000 marcos (30.000 kg.) de plata25.

sadera que ellos devíen aver, en que avríe muchos más dineros que estos, ca por savor de levar gran gente en la hueste non quissieron levar escusados ningunos” (Hernández, Amparo. Crónica de la población de Ávila: 47). 22. González, Manuel. Alfonso X el Sabio. Barcelona: Ariel, 2004: 160. 23. “Pues aun siendo los ultramontanos más de diez mil jinetes y cien mil infantes, se le daba a cada jinete veinte sueldos corrientes por día, y cinco a los infantes. Las mujeres, los niños, los enfermos y demás incapacitados para el combate no eran ajenos a esta gracia. Esto era lo que se pagaba en general y públicamente, sin contar los regalos particulares, que superaban en cantidad esa cifra y que se hacían llegar a los nobles no día a día, sino en grandes cantidades por inter- mediarios del noble rey. A estos regalos se añadía una infinita largueza de caballos, alegre diversidad de paños, que en conjunto era incapaz de abarcar con faz contenta la ceñuda rigidez de la severidad. Si a todo esto se añaden los presentes dados a los reyes, las soldadas pagadas a los suyos, el límite del regalo y la esplendidez superó lo que pudiera comprarse con todo ello. Y además, para que los extranjeros no carecieran de nada de la expedición, a todos les proporcionó tiendas y transportes. Añadió gracia a la gracia y les suministró, como transporte de vituallas y demás necesidades, más de se- senta mil albardas con sus respectivas bestias de carga” (Rodericii Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VIII, capítulo IV). 24. Jericke, Hartmut. Kaiser Heinrich VI, der unbekannte Staufer. Gleichen: Muster-Schmidt, 2008: 79. 25. Jericke, Hartmut. Kaiser Heinrich VI...: 59-62.

496 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 En el texto que presentamos de la Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla no se dan cantidades so-

bre el número de combatientes o lo percibido por cada caballero o peón, sino que se describen de n gl is h manera general los pagos efectuados y las soldadas recibidas, así como el pago de la mitad de las E in rentas del clero:

Dum conuenirent nobiles et populi regis Castelle et regis Aragonum, cunctis, qui uenerant de Pictauia et

de Vasconia et de Prouincia et de aliis partibus et ipsi regi Aragonum, expensas omnes nobilis rex Castelle ubm i tted

sufficienter ministrabat. Ubi tanta copia auri effundebatur cotidie quam uix et numeratores et ponderatores S multitudinem denariorum qui necessarii erant ad expensas poterant numerare. Uniuersus clerus regni Castelle no t ad peticionem regni medietatem omnium redituum suorum in eodem anno concesserant domino regi. Preter stipendia cotidiana regi Aragonum multam sumam pecunie misit antequam ipse de regno suo exiret: e x t s

pauper enim erat et multis debitis obligatus nec sine adiutorio regis Castelle potuisset militibus suis, qui eum T sequi debebant, stipendia necessaria largiri26. the

o f

De estas Crónicas, además de los textos relativos a la batalla de Las Navas, también debemos señalar para el tema algunos otros. Jiménez de Rada da a entender que en 1217, a la muerte de

Enrique I y la conversión de Fernando III en rey de Castilla, escaseaban las rentas reales para r i g in al s pagar soldadas por lo que la reina Berenguela hubo de recurrir a sus bienes en metales y piedras O preciosas:

Verum quia perturbatione huiusmodi obsistente regales redditus ad stipendia defecerunt, et regina nobilis quicquid habuerat in largicionibus dispensarat, ad argenti et auri et gemmarum donaria misit manum et queque ex talibus reseruarat in auxilium filii liberaliter erogauit...27.

Es un pasaje que cabe valorar en cuanto que D. Rodrigo quiere ensalzar la generosidad de la rei- na, pero que quizás no sea muy fiable en cuanto a las rentas y soldadas, aunque en lo fundamental cabe sugerir que sí es prueba de que éstas eran pagadas habitualmente. La Crónica Latina de los Reyes de Castilla al tratar de la situación de enfrentamiento, poco después de Las Navas, de Alfonso VIII con el rey de León Alfonso IX refiere el pago de soldadas (stipendia) a los nobles y la entrega de grandes regalos (munera magna) a los magnates:

Exinde uero dirigens iter suum in partes Castelle, cum unicum et sumum desiderium esset ei claudere diem extremum contra Sarracenos pro exultatione nominis Iesu Christi, uidens quod rex Legionis prestaret magnum impedimentum illi tam sancto proponito tamque laudabili, stipendia multa dedit nobilibus et munera magna

26. “Mientras se reunían los nobles y los pueblos del rey de Castilla y del rey de Aragón, el noble rey de Castilla sufra- gaba suficientemente los gastos a todos los que habían venido de Poitou y de Gascuña y de la Provenza y de otras partes y al mismo rey de Aragón. Tanta abundancia de oro se distribuía todos los días que los contadores y pesadores apenas podían numerar la cantidad de dineros que eran necesarios para los gastos. Todo el clero del reino de Castilla, atendien- do a la necesidad del reino, había concedido en aquel año la mitad de todos sus réditos al rey”. “Además de las soldadas diarias, envió gran cantidad de dinero al rey de Aragón, antes de que éste saliera de su reino, pues era pobre y estaba obligado por muchos débitos y sin ayuda del rey de Castilla no hubiese podido dar las pagas necesarias a sus guerreros que debían seguirle”. (Charlo, Luis. Crónica Latina de los Reyes...: 28). He alterado un poco la traducción de Charlo Brea: traduzco populi por los pueblos y stipendia por soldadas. Traduzco milites no por soldados sino por guerreros. 27. “Pero como a causa de la duración de tales alteraciones escaseaban las rentas reales para pagar las soldadas, y la noble reina había repartido con sus donativos todo lo que tenía, recurrió a los bienes de plata, oro y piedras preciosas y, para ayudar a su hijo, regaló con generosidad lo que de ellos guardaba” (Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia de rebus...: VIIII, cpto. VII).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 497 magnatibus, conuocauitque multitudinem populorum innumerabilem ut saltem metu perterritus rex Legionis pacem firmaret cum rege glorioso et, si nollet iuuare ipsum, saltem non impediret28 . nglish E in

3. La extensión de la fiscalidad regia y las soldadas

Si el pago de las soldadas a los nobles era un hecho importante durante el reinado de Alfonso ubmitted VIII (1158-1214) debemos hacer algunas apreciaciones sobre el desarrollo de la fiscalidad durante S dicho período. n o t Podemos señalar que la construcción de la fiscalidad regia fue factible porque durante el siglo XII hubo unas bases económicas nuevas, una extensión de la circulación monetaria, una moneti- exts

T zación que hizo posible o facilitó no sólo transacciones comerciales sino también una canalización

the dineraria de las exigencias de la monarquía. Hasta el reinado de Alfonso VIII se hallaban en circu-

o f lación como moneda de oro los dinares almorávides que eran designados por los cristianos con la

palabra morabetinos29. En imitación de éstos se produjeron las primeras acuñaciones de maravedís, precisamente cuando en los años setenta se frenó el flujo de este metal que se debía entonces a las

riginals parias dadas por el Rey Lobo de Murcia. Ha llamado poderosamente la atención un maravedí acu- O ñado, según últimas investigaciones en 1185, en el que el rey castellano es denominado “Príncipe de los Católicos”, una expresión de clara influencia islámica30. Sin duda el privilegio de Alfonso VIII en 1173 a la Orden de Santiago con la asignación de un 5% del monto de los stipendia a los nobles es un claro síntoma de esta importante monetización, de la que también disponemos de otros testimonios. En las arras dadas por Alfonso VIII a su mujer Leonor en 1170, junto con las ciudades y villas a ella entregadas se menciona la satisfacción de al menos 5.000 maravedís anuales procedentes de las rentas de Toledo31. Conforme al tratado de Seligenstadt, de 23 de abril de 1188, en el se con- certaba el matrimonio de la entonces heredera de Alfonso VIII, su hija Berenguela, con el duque Conrado de Rothenburg, hijo del emperador Federico I Barbarroja (1152-1190), se establecía el pago de una dote de 42.000 áureos, esto es de 42.000 maravedís de oro32. Y según el testamento de

28. “De allí, dirigiéndose hacia las tierras de Castilla, como su único y gran deseo era acabar su vida contra los sarracenos por la exaltación del nombre de Jesucristo, viendo que el rey de León ponía gran impedimento a aquel tan santo y tan laudable propósito, entregó muchas soldadas a los nobles y grandes regalos a los magnates, y convocó a una multitud in- numerable de pueblos para que al menos aterrado por el miedo el rey de León, firmara la paz con el rey glorioso y, si no quería ayudarle contra los moros, al menos no le pusiera impedimento”. (Charlo, Luis. Crónica Latina de los Reyes...: 37). 29. Gil, Octavio. Historia de la moneda española. Madrid: Diana, 1959: 198-199. 30. Schramm, Percy Ernst. “Das kastilische Königtum und Kaisertum während der Reconquista (11. Jahrhundert bis 1252)”, Festschrift für Gerhard Ritter. Tübingen: Mohr, 1950: 87-139 sobre todo 130. El texto completo, que está escrito en árabe, es en una cara “El Principe de los Católicos, Alfonso, hijo de Sancho, Dios lo ayude y lo proteja” y en la otra “El Iman de la Iglesia cristiana, el Papa de la vieja Roma”. Schramm atribuía a este maravedí, siguiendo a Sánchez-Albornoz (Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. “La primitiva organización monetaria de León y Castilla”. Anuario de Historia del Derecho Español, 5 (1928): 301-345, y en Sánchez-Albornoz, Claudio. Estudios sobre las instituciones medievales españolas. México: Universidad Nacional Autónomade México, 1965: 441-477 sobre todo 472) la fecha de 1175, pero últimamente se la fecha de 1185, Francisco, José María de. “El maravedí de oro de Alfonso VIII: un mensaje cristiano escrito en árabe”. Revista General de Información y Documentación, 8/1 (1998): 283-301. 31. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: I, 192. 32. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: II, 857-858 (doc. nº 499). Sobre este tratado: Rassow, Peter. Der Prinzgemahl, ein pactum matrimoniale aus dem Jahre 1188. Weimar: H. Bohlaus Nachfolger, 1950; Estepa, Carlos. “Concejos y monar- quía en el reinado de Alfonso VIII: el pacto matrimonial de 1187-1188”, El historiador y la sociedad. Homenaje al profesor José María Mínguez. Pablo de la Cruz Díaz, Fernando Luis Corral, Iñaki Martín Viso, coord. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca, 2013.

498 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 Alfonso VIII, realizado en 1204, el monarca castellano tenía unas deudas muy elevadas33. Se dice

que la reina Leonor poseía un cuaderno donde estaban apuntados los nombres de los acreedores; n gl is h la deuda alcanzaba los 90.000 maravedís. Se habla de manera expresa de 18.000 maravedís que E in los testamentarios deberían pagar al almojarife Avomar, de los que se habían satisfecho 6.000; los otros 12.000 debían pagarse a partir de las rentas de Toledo, a razón de 3.000 maravedís anuales. De nuestro análisis sobre las cargas fiscales desde 1109 a 1230 dedujimos que los dos grandes ejes en la construcción de la fiscalidad real fueron el pecho pectum)( y el pedido (petitum)34. Identi- ubm i tted S ficamos el primero como el pecho de marzo omarzazga , que fue el primer intento de extender un no t tributo real más allá del realengo con el carácter de una exigencia ordinaria. Otra cosa es que las numerosas exenciones, especialmente en los señoríos eclesiásticos, hicieran imposible tal genera- e x t s lización, que después se hará más efectiva mediante la martiniega. El pedido, por el contrario, era T

una exigencia de carácter extraordinario, que con el tiempo tendió a convertirse en ordinaria y que the

desapareció de manera general cuando Alfonso X (1252-1284) estableció los servicios extraordi- o f narios otorgados en Cortes35. No tenemos datos sobre lo que significaron el pecho y el pedido desde el punto de vista econó-

mico. Por otra parte, las múltiples exenciones nos hacen ver cómo vasallos de señoríos eclesiásticos r i g in al s y laicos se situaban al margen de su satisfacción o que los tributos total o parcialmente pasaban a O los señores. Sobre este punto parece aceptable la idea de que en ocasiones hubiera en el caso del pedido una distribución dual entre el Rey y el señor. Y por otro lado, también hay que tener en cuenta a los tenentes como representantes de la autoridad regia, percibiendo parte de los derechos generados en las tenencias. Probablemente las cargas más importantes para el fisco regio desde el punto de vista económico fueran las procedentes de los derechos relativos al tráfico de mercancías y su venta, lo que de ma- nera general solemos denominar portazgos, así como los derechos de esta índole y rentas urbanas que en el reino de Toledo, muy particularmente en la ciudad de Toledo, se dieron englobados bajo el término de almojarifazgos36. Todos ellos debieron tener una creciente importancia económica en los siglos XII y XIII. Y contribuyeron de una manera muy notable al incremento de los recursos reales. Fueron las monedas y servicios constituidas a mediados del siglo XIII como contribuciones extraordinarias aprobadas en Cortes las que pasaron a ser las cargas privativas de la fiscalidad re- gia, exigidas de manera general, tanto a los integrados en los realengos como a los vasallos de los señoríos eclesiásticos y laicos y de los señoríos de behetría. Lógicamente éstos serán sumamente importantes para la asignación de soldadas y por ende para lo que podemos considerar de manera general como la financiación de la guerra mediante la fiscalidad real. Sin embargo, no cabe olvidar los otros derechos e ingresos de la monarquía castellana. Hay que tener en cuenta esa preciosa fuente que son las Rentas de Sancho IV de los años 1290-1292, editadas y estudiadas minuciosamente por Francisco J. Hernández37. En ellas las llamadas rentas ciertas están constituidas por las rentas reales de martiniegas y derechos, por las tercias procedentes

33. González, Julio. El reino de Castilla...: III, 335-336 (doc. nº 765). 34. En el mencionado trabajo Estepa, Carlos. “La construcción de la fiscalidad...”. 35. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real en Castilla (1252-1369). Madrid: Editorial Complutense, 1993: 54. 36. Sobre éstos: González, José Damián. “Las rentas del almojarifazgo de Toledo”. Anales Toledanos, 41 (2005): 39-70. 37. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey. Sociedad y fisco en el reino castellano del siglo XIII. Madrid: Fundación Areces, 1993, 3 vols.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 499 del diezmo eclesiásticos, los derechos sobre salinas y ferrerías, los tributos sobre las aljamas de los 38 nglish moros y de los judíos y los almojarifazgos . El primer apartado, el de las llamadas Rentas Reales,

E básicamente formadas por martiniegas y derechos, con 1.879.522 mrs. de la moneda de la guerra in era el 40,02% (sobre 4.695,860,5 mrs.) del total de las Rentas Ciertas, de ellas 1.159.170 mrs. para el área de la Corona formada por Castilla (las Merindades), Extremadura castellana, la Transierra y el reino de Toledo. La martiniega regia ascendía al 69,52% de las Rentas Reales en dicha área. ubmitted Ciertamente, las Rentas de 1290-1292 no nos hablan de las contribuciones extraordinarias, S esto es de las monedas y servicios, pero sí dedican un apartado al pago de soldadas en Andalucía. Y n o t precisamente, teniendo en cuenta esto y las características de esta fuente podremos hacer algunas observaciones sobre el tema que nos ocupa. Estas Rentas nos permiten deducir el nivel alcanzado exts

T por la organización de la fiscalidad regia en el último decenio del siglo XIII, siendo plausible una

the visión retrospectiva que incluso nos puede ilustrar y completar, aún parcialmente, la situación bajo

o f Alfonso VIII.

Las Rentas de 1290-1292 no son una fuente contable, esto es no se trata propiamente de un registro de ingresos y gastos, más bien los ingresos son también los gastos. A partir de los derechos

riginals que se perciben en un lugar por un motivo determinado, ello es asignado a una determinada per- O sona o institución, que a su vez lo puede derivar hacia otros. No sirve tanto para evaluar el nivel de organización en sí, aunque el registro en sí y las aplicaciones pormenorizadas ciertamente denoten un notable desarrollo de la capacidad de las instancias administrativas de la monarquía castellana, como para percibir que los vasallos del Rey eran beneficiados mediante los recursos fiscales. De las llamadas Rentas Reales se dice que eran tenidas por tierra o por heredamiento. Esto último se refería a una asignación hereditaria pudiendo ser de unos determinados derechos, por ejemplo la martiniega o parte de ella en un lugar, o bien el señorío sobre dicho lugar. Lo tenido por tierra era lo más habitual indicando para una determinada circunscripción, por ejemplo una merindad me- nor, que (los dineros) tienen los por tierra desta guisa, o son puestos en esta guisa, dando seguidamente sus nombres. En realidad la percepción de dineros por tierra no era otra cosa, si nos situamos un siglo antes en el reinado de Alfonso VIII, que las tenencias. En última instancia nos encontramos ante ingresos derivados de la tenencia de una villa, de un lugar o de cualquier tipo de circunscrip- ción, que ahora conocemos registrados como asignados a determinados señores, por ejemplo la reina, infantes, ricoshombres, caballeros etc... Ello hace que la información aportada por las Rentas sea sustancial para conocer las distintas personas que se encontraban vinculadas al Rey, vasalláti- camente, y que recibían sus emolumentos, en lo más parecido a lo que técnicamente es conocido como feudos, lo tenido pheudo temporali de que hablaba Rodrigo Jiménez de Rada39. Y además de estos derechos por tierra había el pago de soldadas. Nos podemos preguntar hasta qué punto las soldadas procedían de los recursos extraordinarios del fisco real. De esta manera tienta establecer un esquema o modelo de los recursos y su aplicación: por un lado la asignación de dineros por tierra o en tierra, como también se decía, por otro las soldadas, lo cual remitiría a los ingresos ordinarios y extraordinarios, respectivamente, en definitiva de un lado, martiniegas y de- rechos, por otro monedas y servicios, o si se quiere lo que vino del pecho y lo que vino del pedido. Este esquema puede resultar sugerente pero me temo que no responde a la realidad y que ésta era más complicada. En las Cortes de Burgos, celebradas en 1315, durante la minoría de Alfonso

38. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 82. 39. Roderici Ximenii de Rada. Historia rebus...: VII, capítulo XV.

500 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 XI, al decir de su Crónica quisieron los de la tierra saber quanto montaban las rentas del Rey; et desque lo

sopieron, porque fallaron que eran menguadas, dieron al Rey los diezmos de los puertos que solian aver su n gl is h padre et sus avuelos, et más tres ayudas, que fuese cada una tanto como una moneda forera, para pagar las E in soldadas40. En las Cortes de Carrión (1316-1317) se llegó a la conclusión de que las rentas del Rey (el concepto de 1290-1292) ascendían a 1.600.000 mrs., sin contar las rentas de la Frontera (Anda- lucía) que eran otro millón41, pero en tal ocasión se calculó en 9.600.000 mrs.42 lo necesario para pagar a los ricoshombres y caballeros, para la retenencia de los castillos y para el mantenimiento ubm i tted S del Rey y de los oficios de la Corte43. Posiblemente los recursos procedentes de las contribuciones no t extraordinarias fueran la parte del león en los ingresos de la fiscalidad regia pero las llamadas ren- tas reales seguían siendo también una parte considerable. e x t s

Por otro lado, en las Rentas de 1290-1292 tenemos un testimonio parcial sobre el pago de solda- T 44 das, en la parte dedicada a Andalucía . Lo sustancial de este texto es la denominada i. Nómina de the

45 la Frontera . Se registran diferentes asignaciones en distintos lugares que no se diferencian mucho o f de lo que encontramos de las rentas reales en otras regiones, pero eso sí hay un apartado con las soldadas de los caballeros de Sevilla, a la que precede lo que tienen los ricoshombres en la Frontera,

así como asignaciones a caballeros de otros villas como Carmona, Jerez de la Frontera, Arcos de r i g in al s la Frontera, Niebla, Écija, Córdoba, Jaén, Úbeda, Andújar, Arjona y Baeza. Y en el apartado sobre O Resúmenes de gastos nuevamente hay referencia, con la misma información, sobre las soldadas a ri- coshombres y caballeros. Por lo señalado en un punto de instrucciones finales al acabar el apartado i46 se diferencia entre lo que son soldadas y las cosas que non son soldadas, pero lo percibido en estas últimas también es por que me ayan a seruir con caballeros e con armas por ello. Quizás ello permita plantear que del dinero de las asignaciones por tierra también se podían pagar soldadas. En un libro de cuenta de 1288 de tierras asignadas a diversos nobles se reparten un total 2.431.133 mrs47. Parece obvio que con las cantidades recibidas un ricohombre distribuía soldadas, de ahí las diferencias en el monto que vemos en los distintos personajes, por ejemplo el infante D. Juan percibía 416.000 mrs. mientras que el noble leonés Diego Ramírez recibía 66.000 mrs. Con ello se pagaban las soldadas de más o menos hombres. Así en las Rentas de 1290-1292 en la parte sobre Andalucía, en los resúmenes de gastos se indica junto con la cantidad global un nú- mero de tropa, por ejemplo D. Fernán Pérez Ponce recibía 28.000 mrs. de soldada para 23 hombres de tropa, en tanto que Juan Alfonso, hijo del infante D. Alfonso Fernández, percibía una soldada de 48.000 mrs. para 40 de tropa.

40. “Crónica de Don Alfonso el Onceno”, Crónicas de los Reyes de Castilla, ed. Cayetano Rosell. Madrid: Ediciones Atlas, 1953: I, 179 (capítulo VIII). 41. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 227. 42. Al igual que los datos de las Rentas de 1290-1292 los “mrs.” de la citada Crónica son los llamados maravedís de la guerra. 43. Crónica de Don Alfonso el Onceno...: capto. X; véase Estepa, Carlos. “La monarquía castellana en los siglos XIII-XIV. Algunas consideraciones”. Edad Media. Revista de Historia, 8 (2007): 79-98 sobre todo 85. 44. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 391-418. 45. Sigue un párrafo ii. Segunda copia de la Nómina; Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 413; y iii. Resú- menes de gastos; Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 414-418. 46. Hernández, Francisco Javier. Las Rentas del Rey...: I, 411. 47. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 322-323.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 501 4. El gasto de la Guerra

nglish Los nobles recibieron pagos que venían de los recursos de la fiscalidad regia, tanto de los dineros

E por tierra como de las soldadas individualizadas. Puede decirse que los nobles recibieron de manera in masiva estos ingresos, pero dado que los nobles tenían necesidades que iban más allá de sus fun- ciones militares, no sabemos ni es fácil de apreciar qué porcentaje de los ingresos de la fiscalidad real era destinado a la guerra, y en definitiva sigue pendiente el responder a la pregunta de ¿Cuál ubmitted era el gasto de la Guerra? S Aquí se debe tener en cuenta que si bien el pago de soldadas a ricoshombres, infanzones, caba- n o t lleros y otras personas sería elemento sustancial de lo que en términos generales podría denomi- narse el Coste de la Guerra, éste no se agotaba con las soldadas. exts

T Hemos de tomar en consideración otros aspectos que comportan el gasto de la guerra. La ne-

the cesidad de un enorme número de caballos y animales de carga con su correspondiente avitualla-

o f miento. Ciertamente todo esto también podía gravar a las poblaciones recorridas por un ejército,

pero en cualquier caso había que atender las necesidades logísticas. Y éstas no estaban limitadas a las personas que en distintos grados participaran en una campaña en cuanto a sus necesidades

riginals de animales, víveres, vestidos y armas, tal como lo sugiere sin ir más lejos el arriba citado pasaje O de Jiménez de Rada a propósito de los ultramontanos y de cómo habían sido dotados por Alfonso VIII con todo lo necesario48. Transportar durante un mayor o menor número de jornadas hom- bres y animales elevaba notablemente los costes de la guerra. Se habían de construir máquinas, sobre todo ingenios para el asedio, fortalezas móviles, y a todo ello se deben sumar los gastos en reparaciones de castillos y fortalezas. Y asimismo en un cómputo de los gastos de la guerra quizá también deba contemplarse el pago de los rescates de prisioneros, aunque ciertamente esto esca- paría estrictamente a la fiscalidad regia. Por otro lado, si todo lo dicho se hallaba en el Debe, en el Haber deberíamos tener en cuenta las aportaciones del botín. Valga todo esto para sugerir que la pregunta sobre los gastos de la guerra ha de responderse en toda su complejidad, naturalmente sin cuestionar lo sustancioso de las soldadas.

6. Conclusiones

Las soldadas fueron el elemento esencial en que quedaba articulada la relación entre la fiscali- dad y la guerra. Tuvieron ya una notoria importancia en el reinado de Alfonso VIII, en tanto que la información obtenida de las Rentas del Rey bajo Sancho IV (1284-1295), un siglo después, nos permite conocer y valorar los fenómenos de asignación de los recursos del fisco a la nobleza y en general a todos los que desempeñaban funciones militares. Gracias a los testimonios de finales del siglo XIII podemos observar cómo las soldadas com- portaban además una redistribución de los recursos de la hacienda real y creaban una amplia red clientelar con el Rey a la cabeza49. La nobleza era gratificada y podía participar en la guerra, estre- chando así los lazos con un poder real fortalecido gracias a su propia participación. Esta reciproci- dad debe verse como algo inherente al sistema o régimen en el que se desenvolvía. Las Rentas del Rey bajo Sancho IV nos presentan un entramado nobiliario dirigido hacia el mo- narca y desde éste. ¿Cuál fue la situación bajo Alfonso VIII? Fuera de la importancia y vigencia de

48. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. Fiscalidad y poder real...: 8. 49. Arias, Fernando. Guerra y fortalecimiento del poder regio en Castilla. El reinado de Alfonso XI (1312-1350). Madrid: Con- sejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2012: 221.

502 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 las soldadas y de otros recursos de la fiscalidad real nos movemos en un terreno más bien hipoté-

tico. Aún es necesario centrarse en el análisis de los recursos y su distribución desde las tenencias, n gl is h pero podemos partir de la idea de que desde fines del siglo XII y principios del siglo XIII los pagos E in de soldadas fueron generando una compleja estructura organizativa reflejo de una monarquía consolidada. ubm i tted S no t

e x t s T the

o f

r i g in al s O

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 492-503. ISSN 1888-3931 503 LA FUNCIÓN DE LA EUCARISTÍA EN LA CONSTRUCCIÓN

nglish DE UNA ECLESIOLOGÍA EN EL COMENTARIO

E A I Cor. DE HAIMÓN DE AUXERRE in

Alfonso Hernández ubmitted Universidad de la Defensa Nacional S Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones n o t

Científicas y Técnicas exts T the

o f Resumen

La exégesis bíblica carolingia busca realizar una síntesis de la tradición exegética y teológica pa-

riginals trística con el objetivo de hacerla asequible a los cristianos de su época. En ese proceso se realizan O interpretaciones de los textos bíblicos que pueden ser consideradas nuevas, a pesar de basarse en los textos de los padres. Dentro de las mismas se pueden encontrar imágenes de la Iglesia que con- tienen ideas acerca del poder y de la forma de gobernar y ordenar la sociedad. En este artículo se analiza el comentario de Haimón de Auxerre a I Cor 12, 12 y ss. con el objetivo de establecer qué sentido tiene para el autor el concepto de “cuerpo de Cristo”, como podría este relacionarse con la controversia eucarística de siglo IX y cuáles son las consecuencias ideológicas de su exégesis1.

1. Introducción

Como ya lo señaló tempranamente Yves Congar, el estudio de la eclesiología alto presenta un problema básico, no existen los tratados De ecclesia en la Alta Edad Media Eso significa que no hay una reflexión teórica sistemática acerca de la Iglesia, en lugar de esto encontramos ‘imágenes de la Iglesia’2. El objetivo de este trabajo es analizar el uso que Haimón de Auxerre hace de una de esas imágenes, la de la Iglesia como cuerpo de Cristo. Esta tiene un origen directamente escriturario, puesto que san Pablo la utiliza en I Cor 12, 12 y siguientes, situación que aseguró el éxito de la misma en las reflexiones acerca de la naturaleza de la Iglesia cristiana. El breve análisis acerca de las relaciones entre eucaristía y eclesiología en el pensamiento de Haimón de Auxerre, que presentaré en este trabajo, está basado en su Comentario a I Cor. Este comentario es parte de una obra de mayor alcance, el Comentario a las epístolas paulinas del mismo autor. El Comentario a las Epístolas Paulinas fue leído y copiado durante toda la Edad Media (se conservan un mínimo de 180 mss., los más antiguos del siglo IX3 y el más tardío fechado en 1569

1. Abreviaturas utilizadas: BA, Biblioteca Ambrosiana; BL, British Library; BML, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana; BMO, Bibliothèque Municipale d'Orléans; BNF, Bibliothèque Nationale de France; WHABW, Wolfenbüttel Herzog-August Bibliothek. 2. Congar, Yves. L’ecclésiologie du haut moyen age. París: Cerf, 1968. 3. WHAB. Weissenburg, 46, f. 1-2; BL. Harley, 3102; BA, A, 138 sup., f. 4-133v; BMO. Ms. 81 (78), f. 211-317; 88 (85); BNF. Ms. lat. 2412; BNF. Ms. lat. 12303; BNF. Ms. lat. 13409.

504 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 es un hermoso ms. renacentista en minúscula humanística4). El Comentario a las Epístolas Paulinas

también fue objeto de ediciones impresas tempranamente a partir del siglo XVI. La edición más n gl is h accesible hoy en día es la de Patrología Latina, que reproduce la de editio prinComentario a las epístolas E in paulinass realizada en Estrasburgo en 15195. Como es habitual en muchos de los textos de Haimón de Auxerre la atribución es equivocada (generalmente a Remigio de Auxerre) y Migne le otorgó el texto a la pluma de a Haimón de Halberstadt6. El error de atribución se produjo en la Edad Media y fue corregido solo en 1917 por Riggenbach7. ubm i tted S Desconocemos las razones que motivaron a Haimón de Auxerre a escribir su Comentario a las no t Epístolas Paulinas. Pero tampoco tenemos muchas noticias de su propia vida, puesto que no nos ha llegado casi ningún dato biográfico del autor. El período de actividad de Haimón en Saint-Germain e x t s 8 de Auxerre ocupó los dos decenios de 840 a 860 aproximadamente . Las noticias acerca de su vida T 9 son sumamente escasas. Su fecha de nacimiento es desconocida, aunque John Contreni supone the

que debe fecharse a principios del siglo IX y que, basándose en los estudios de Heil, puede haberse o f producido en la Península Ibérica10, aunque esto último es imposible de confirmar. Contreni no descarta que hubiera podido ser alumno de Teodulfo de Orleáns, también partiendo de las afini- 11 dades que Heil encontró entre los dos intelectuales . Henri Barré fecha su muerte en torno a 865- r i g in al s 86612, sin embargo J.J. Contreni supone que pudo ser abad del monasterio de Sasceium (Cessy-les- O Bois), cercano a Saint-Germain d’Auxerre, entre 865 y 87513. El Comentario a I Cor de Haimón es una obra que ha recibido muy poca atención de la crítica moderna. Jacques Le Goff lo utilizó en su Historia del Purgatorio pero conservó la atribución errada a Haimón de Halberstadt14. Edmond Ortigues lo estudió como fuente complementaria en su trabajo acerca del orden trifuncional (trabajo centrado verdaderamente en los comentarios a la Epístola a

4. BML, Ms. XXIV.1, f. 1-257. 5. Hermanni, Sixtus. “In epistolam ad Romanos”. Patrologiae. Cursus completus. París: J. P. Migne editorem, 1852: CXVII, cols. 364-938. 6. Para el problema de atribución de los textos de Haimón de Auxerre, ver Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “L’oeuvre d’Haymon d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre de Muretach à Remi 830-908, Dominique Iogna-Prat, Colette Jeudy, Guy Lobri- chon, eds. París: Beauchesne, 1991: 157-179. 7. Riggenbach, Eduward. Historische Studien zum Hebräerbrief. I: die Älsten lateinischen Kommentare zum Hebräerbrief. Forschungen zur Geschichte des neutestamentlichen Kanons 8. Leipzig: Deichert, 1907. 8. Para la vida y obra de Haimón ver Holtz, Louis. “L’ecole d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 131-146; Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “L’oeuvre d’Haymon d’Auxerre”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 157-179. El trabajo más im- portante sobre Haimón estaba aún en prensa cuando este trabajo fue realizado, se trata de Shimahara, Sumi. Haymon d’Auxerre, exégète carolingien. Turnhout: Brepols, 2013. 9. Contreni, John. “By Lions, Bishops are meant; by Wolves, Priests: History, Exegesis, and the carolingian Church in Haimo of Auxerre’s Commentary on Ezechiel”. Francia, 29 (2002): 55-56. 10. Heil, Johannes. “Haimo’s commentary on Paul. Sources, Methods and Theology”, Études d’exégèse carolingienne: autour d’Haymon d’Auxerre. Atelier de recherches Centre d’Études médiévales d’Auxerre 25-26 avril 2005, Sumi Shimahara, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 2007: 114-118. 11. Heil, Johannes. Kompilation oder Konstruktion? Die Juden in den Pauluskommentaren des 9. Jahrhunderts, (Forschungen zur Geschichte der Juden. Abt. A: Abhandlungen, 6). Hannover: Hansche, 1998: 275-334. 12. Barré, Henri. “Haymon”, Dictionnaire de Spiritualité. París: Beauchesne, 1969: VII, col. 92. 13. Contreni, John. Haimo of Auxerre, Abbot of Sasceium. (Cessy-les-Bois) and a new Sermon of John v, 4-10. Révue Bénédictine, 85 (1975): 317. 14. Le Goff, Jacques. La naissance du Purgatoire. París: Gallimard, 1981: 143-144.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 505 los Romanos y al Apocalipsis)15. Pierre Boucaud hizo lo propio para señalar la influencia de Clau- 16 nglish dio de Turín en distintos aspectos del pensamiento de Haimón de Auxerre . E in

2. El contexto teológico: la controversia eucarística del siglo IX

La creencia en la transubstanciación es uno de los contenidos dogmáticos que distingue desde ubmitted Trento hasta la actualidad, a la Iglesia Católica respecto de las Iglesias Reformadas17. Sin embar- S go, esta expresión comenzó a ser utilizada tardíamente, recién a partir de 114018 y aunque se la n o t reconoció como dogma en el cuarto concilio Lateranense de 1215, la doctrina de base aristotélica sobre la que se construye el concepto de transubstanciación recién terminó de elaborarse a fines exts 19 T del siglo XIII y convivió con otras interpretaciones, al menos hasta el siglo XV . La discusión acerca

the del ‘realismo eucarístico’, o sea la presencia real —o no— de Cristo en el pan y vino consagrados

o f tiene antecedentes en el periodo carolingio. Por otra parte, durante el período carolingio y post-

carolingio la eucaristía termina una evolución que se había iniciado por lo menos en el siglo VI desde su forma originaria de mysterium en el sentido antiguo, del que participaba la comunidad,

riginals hacia la buena obra que formaba parte de los ejercicios ascéticos —principalmente monásticos— O que servía como instrumento de salvación20. El análisis más completo de la cuestión eucarística en el período carolingio fue realizado en los últimos años por de Celia Chazelle a quien seguiremos en estos párrafos21. La controversia del siglo IX se originó cuando Pascasio Radberto escribió su tratado De corpore et sanguine Domini22 en 831- 833, al que revisó más tarde (843-844) para ser presentado al rey Carlos el Calvo. Sin embargo, el desarrollo de la disputa se produjo, según Chazelle, en época posterior, a partir de la década del ’50

15. Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 181-227 (reimpreso en Ortigues, Edmond. La révélation et le droit. París: Beauchesne, 2007: 77-130. 16. Boucaud, Pierre. “Claude de Turin (†ca. 828) et Haymon d’Auxerre (fl. 850): deux commentateures de l’I Co- rinthiens”, Études d’exégèse carolingienne...: 187-236. 17. Para Thierry Wanegffelen la definición acerca de la eucaristía era fundamental para que, tanto católicos como protestantes, construyeran sus respectivas doctrinas, ver también Wanegffelen, Thierry. “La controverse entre Robert Céneau et Martin Bucer sur l’Eucharistie (septembre 1534-janvier 1535)”. Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 77 (1991): 341-349; ver también Burnett, Amy Nelson. “The social history of communion and the reformation of the eucharist”. Past and Present, 211 (2011): 77-119. 18. Goering, Joseph. “The Invention of Transubstantiation”. Traditio, 46 (1991): 147-170. 19. Macy, Gary. “The dogma of transubstantiation in the middle ages”. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 45 (1994): 11-31. 20. Vogel, Cyrille. “Une mutation cultuelle inexpliquée : le passage de l’Eucharistie communautaire à la messe privée”. Revue des Sciences Religieuses, 54 (1980): 231-250. 21. Chazelle, Celia. “Exegesis in the Ninth-Century Eucharistic Controversy”, The Study of the Bible in the Carolingian Era, Celia Chazelle, Burton van Namme Edwards, eds. Turnhout: Brepols, 2003: 167-187; Chazelle, Celia. “The Eucharist in Early Medieval Europe”, A Companion to the Eucharist in the Middle Ages, Ian Christopher Levy, Gary Macy, Kristen Van Ausdall, eds. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2012: 205-250. Ver también de la misma: Chazelle, Celia. The Crucified God in the Carolingian Era: Theology and Art of Christ’s Passion. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001; Otten, Willemien. “Between augustinian sign and carolingian reality: the presence of Ambrose and Augustine in the Eucharistic debate between Paschasius Radbertus and Ratramnus of Corbie”. Dutch Review of Church History, 80 (2000): 137-156. Para referencias más generales acerca de la discusión sobre la eucaristía en nuestro período ver: Libera, Alain de. La filosofía medieval. Valencia: Universitat de València, 2006: 282; Onofrio, Giulio d’. Storia della teologia nel Medioevo, II, Età Medieva- le. Casale Monferrato: Piemme 2003, 83-94; Boureau, Alain. “Visions of God”, Early Medieval Christianities, c. 600-1100. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008: 503-504. Cambridge History of the Cristianity. Cambridge (UK): Cambridge University Press, 2014, III. 22. Pascasio Radberto. De corpore et sanguine Domini cum appendice epistola ad Fredugardum, Paulus Beda, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 1969: 1-131.

506 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 del siglo IX. El corpus de textos de la controversia incluye al ya citado texto de Pascasio Radberto, el 23

De corpore et sanguine Domini de Ratramno de Corbie (también dedicado a Carlos el Calvo y escrito n gl is h entre 830 y 840), dos tratados de Godescalco de Orbais24, un Florilegium de Adrevaldo de Fleury25 E in redactado en algún momento posterior a 840 y dirigido contra un texto (hoy perdido) de Escoto Eriúgena, un fragmento de las Expositiones in ierarchiam coelestem del mismo Eriúgena (escritas hacia 86226), una carta de Rábano Mauro27 de 853-856 —que menciona un tratado acerca de la cuestión redactado por él mismo, también perdido—, otros dos textos de Radberto (un comentario al relato ubm i tted S de Mateo de la última cena28 y una carta al monje Fredugardo29) y, por último, fragmentos de un no t poema/tratado de Hincmaro de Reims, el Ferculum Salomonis30, escrito para Carlos el Calvo. Hai- món, por lo tanto, no participó en esta controversia y el De corpore et sanguine Domini atribuido a él e x t s 31 en Patrologia Latina (PL) en realidad no le pertenece . T

Una idea central de Celia Chazelle es que, lo que se discutía en la controversia eucarística, no the

era la realidad de la presencia del Salvador en el sacramento sino de qué cuerpo y de qué sangre de o f

Cristo se trataba. Otra característica propia de esta discusión teológica fue su carácter exegético, del que era responsable la centralidad de la exégesis bíblica en la cultura carolingia. Un tercer elemento

a tener en cuenta es que se trataba de una discusión completamente nueva. Si bien las dos posicio- r i g in al s nes enfrentadas utilizaban fuentes patrísticas, no se puede afirmar que una haya privilegiado una O posición ambrosiana y la otra una agustina. En verdad, el problema es que no existían desarrollos patrísticos claros sobre el tema y esta fue, según Willemien Otten, la causa fundamental de tal con- troversia en tiempos carolingios e incluso mucho más tarde, durante la Reforma32. Veamos ahora brevemente la postura acerca de la Eucaristía de cuatro de los autores carolingios citados: Pascasio Radberto, Godescalco, Hincmaro y Ratramno. Para Pascasio Radberto había una identificación del cuerpo y la sangre de Cristo con el cuerpo del Cristo histórico, ‘figurados’ bajo las características sensibles del pan y vino. Godescalco, por su parte, escribió contra el De corpore de Pascasio —texto que lee— pero cuyo autor desconoce33. El primero se apoyaba en citas evangélicas (Rom VI, 9 y I Pedro III, 18), para afirmar que el sacrificio de Cristo en la cruz había sido único y, por lo tanto, no podía tener relación directa con el realizado en la misa. Hincmaro de Reims, enemigo declarado de Godescalco, tomó partido por la posición de Pascasio Radberto. Hincmaro comparte con Radberto la creencia en la identidad de la Eucaristía

23. Ratramno. De corpore et sanguine Domini: Texte original et notice bibliographique, Jaan Nicholas Bakhuizen. Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1974: 9-14. 24. Oeuvres théologiques et grammaticales de Godescalco d’Orbais, ed. Cyrille Lambot. Lovaina: «Spicilegium Sacrum Lova- niense» Bureaux, 1945: 324-335, 335-337. 25. Adrevaldi, “De corpore et sanguine Christi contra ineptias Joannis Scoti”, Patrologiae. Cursos completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1879: CXXIV, cols. 947-954. 26. Escoto, Juan. Expositiones in ierarchiam coelestem, ed. Jeanne Barbet. Turnhout: Brepols, 1975: 17, líneas 584-594. 27. Rabani Mauri, “Epistola 56”, Monumenta Germaniae historica. Epistolae karolini aevi III. Epistolae V, ed. Ernst Dümmler, Berlin : Weidmann, 1899: 509-514. 28. Radberto, Pascasio. Expositio in Matheo libri XII, Paulus Beda, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 1984: 1288-1298. 29. Radberto, Pascasio. Epistola ad Fredugardum, Paulus Beda, ed. Turnhout: Brepols, 1984: 145-173. 30. Hincmaro, “Carmen 4”, Monumenta Germaniae historica, Poetae latini aevi Carolini III, ed. Ludwig Traube. Berlin: Weidmann, 1896: 414-415. 31. Jullien, Marie Hélène. “Le De corpore et sanguine Domini attribué à Haymon”, Études d’Exégèse carolingienne...: 23-57. 32. Otten, Willemien. “Between augustinian sign and carolingian reality...”: 146. 33. Chazelle, Celia. “Exegesis in the Ninth-Century...”: 167.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 507 con el cuerpo y sangre históricos de Cristo. El cuarto participante de la controversia eucarística, de

nglish quien nos haya llegado un texto importante, es Ratramno de Corbie. En su De corpore et sanguine

E Domini, este último autor entiende que la presencia del Salvador en la Eucaristía es real pero sólo in en un sentido espiritual, por eso es imperceptible para los sentidos. La hostia es como un ‘signo’ del Cristo verdadero. Como podemos ver, Ratramno coincide en su posición con Godescalco, de la misma forma que Hincmaro lo hace con Pascasio Radberto. ubmitted S 3. Las relaciones entre eucaristía y cuerpo de la Iglesia en el pensamiento n o t de Haimón exts

T La Primera carta a los corintios de san Pablo trata acerca de la eucaristía en los versículos I Cor 11,

the 17-34 y de la Iglesia como cuerpo de Cristo entre los versículos I Cor 12, 12-26. La exposición de

o f Haimón es sistemática y comenta el texto en forma puntillosa, deteniéndose a veces en versículos

completos, a veces en palabras específicas. El orden respeta el texto de san Pablo, a menos que intercale otros fragmentos escriturarios y realice la exégesis de los mismos, siempre en relación al

riginals texto paulino. Las técnicas utilizadas por Haimón son las propias de la exégesis monástica como las O describe Gilbert Dahan34. Limitaremos esta exposición a la explicación de Haimón de algunos de los versículos ya señalados. Lo primero que nos interesa subrayar, es que en este comentario en particular, Haimón parece ser partidario del realismo eucarístico en el sentido que le otorga Pascasio Radberto. Dice en el comentario a I Cor 11, 24:

Accipite et manducate: hoc est corpus meum quod pro vobis tradetur. Sicut caro Christi quam assumpsit in utero virginali, verum corpus ejus est, et pro nostra salute occisum, ita panis quem Christus tradidit discipulis suis omnibusque praedestinatis ad vitam aeterna et quem quotidie consecrant sacerdotes in Ecclesia cum virtute divinitatis, quae illum replet panem verum corpus Christi est, nec sunt duo corpora illa caro quam assumpsit, et iste panis, sed unum verum corpus faciunt Christi: intantum ut dum ille frangitur et comeditur, Christus immoletur et comedatur, et tamen integer maneat et vivus... 35

Por otro lado, Haimón condena, en su comentario a I Cor 11, 27, a quienes consideran que el pan consagrado en la eucaristía no es más que un alimento como los otros:

Indigne dicit, id est ordine non observato, videlicet qui aliter mysterium illud celebrat vel sumit, quam traditum est a sanctis Patribus, vel qui nullam differentiam credit inter illud corpus Christi, et reliquos cibos... 36

34. Dahan, Gilbert. L’exégèse chrétienne de la Bible en Occident médiéval XIIe-XIVe siècle. París: Cerf, 1999: 76-91. 35. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1852, CXVII, col. 572c: “Reciban y coman, esto es mi cuerpo que es entregado por ustedes. Así como la carne de Cristo, que tomó en el útero virginal, es su verdadero cuerpo y por nuestra salvación fue asesinado, así el pan que Cristo entregó a sus discípulos y a todos los predestinados a la vida eterna y que cotidianamente consagran los sacerdotes en la Iglesia con la fortaleza de la divinidad, que ocupa ese pan, es el verdadero cuerpo de Cristo: de forma tal que cuando este es dividido y comido, Cristo es inmolado y comido, aunque permanece íntegro y vivo”. 36. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... cols. 573d-574a: “Indignamente dice, o sea sin observar el orden, en verdad aquel que celebra o recibe este misterio de un modo distinto al que fue transmitido por los santos Padres, o aquel que cree que no hay ninguna diferencia entre aquel cuerpo de Cristo y los restantes alimentos...”.

508 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 Este fragmento parece indicar que Haimón era consciente de las discusiones teológicas en torno

del valor de la Eucaristía. Al parecer, conocía la existencia de quienes consideraban que el pan n gl is h eucarístico era solo pan, quizás se trate de una referencia a la posición de Ratramno y Godescalco. E in Pero también puede ser una alusión a posturas similares presentes en su comunidad monástica o en el entorno eclesiástico al que Haimón pertenecía. En todo caso, el tema era lo suficientemente importante como para que el autor insistiera en condenar esta posición en su comentario a I Cor 11, 29: ubm i tted S no t Qui enim manducat et bibit indigne, sicut supra diximus, judicium sibi manducat et bibit, id est ad damnationem suam illud sumit, non dijudicans corpus Domini, id est non discernens a reliquis cibis. 37 e x t s T

La imagen de la Iglesia como un cuerpo ya aparece en el texto paulino. Haimón insiste en la the

unidad de este cuerpo y continúa con la idea patrística de que Cristo es la cabeza de ese cuerpo en o f su exegesis de I Cor 12, 12:

Sicut enim corpus unum est, et habet multa membra, etc. Usque ita et Christus: subaudis, cum Ecclesia unum r i g in al s

corpus est. His verbis docet non deberi inflari quaelibet adversus alterum, quia etsi non magnum, tamen O parvum est Ecclesiae membrum. Et sicut omnia membra, sive sint magna, sive parva, sive honesta, sive inhonesta, corpus humanum formant, ita homines diversi meriti unam Ecclesiam aedificant, et unum corpus Christi faciunt. Cum Christo enim qui est caput Ecclesiae, ipsa Ecclesia intelligitur, quae est corpus ejus.38

Todo esto es, por lo demás, muy tradicional. De hecho, la idea de que la Iglesia es el cuerpo de Cristo ya aparece en Tertuliano39. Sin embargo, en el periodo carolingio, cuando se inician las reflexiones acerca del lugar de culto (el edificio eclesiástico) hay autores que señalan la metonimia entre Iglesia, como conjunto de fieles, e iglesia, como edificación. El periodo carolingio presenta una serie de transformaciones en la organización de la Iglesia en relación al lugar de culto, que serán fundamentales en el futuro: se toma al Dios que está en todas partes, sin estar en ninguna en especial y se lo ubica en el interior del edificio eclesiástico, cuyo centro es el altar. En ese altar tiene lugar la eucaristía que, como hemos visto, produjo una de las grandes controversias teológicas del siglo IX, pero también tiene lugar una serie de prácticas sociales (juramentos, liberación de escla- vos, donación o intercambio de bienes)40. La ambigüedad Iglesia/iglesia nos lleva a preguntarnos acerca del significado del concepto ‘cuerpo de Cristo’ en relación, no solo con el de ‘Iglesia’, sino

37. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 574d: “En efecto el que come y bebe indignamente, así como decíamos más arriba, come y bebe su propio juicio, o sea lo consume para su propia condenación, cuando no percibe el cuerpo del Señor, o sea no lo distingue de los restantes alimentos”. 38. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 578d : “En efecto así como el cuerpo es uno solo y tiene muchos miembros, etc. Por extensión así también Cristo, es decir, junto a la Iglesia es un solo cuerpo. Enseña con estas palabras que no se debe envanecer uno contra el otro, porque aunque no sea grande, también el pequeño es miembro de la Iglesia. Y así como todos los miembros, sean grandes o pequeños, honorables u vergonzosos, forman el cuerpo humano, así los hombres de diverso mérito constituyen una sola Iglesia y conforman un solo cuerpo de Cristo. En efecto junto con Cristo, que es la cabeza de la Iglesia, se entiende que es la misma Iglesia, la que es su cuerpo”. 39. Tertullianus, “Adversus Marcionem. Liber V”, Patrologiae. Cursus completus. Paris : J. P. Migne editorem, 1844, II, line 18: Sic ubi autem et ecclesiam corpus christi dicit esse —ut hic ait adimplere se reliqua pressurarum christi in carne pro corpore eius, quod est ecclesia—, non propterea et in totum mentionem corporis transferens a substantia carnis; Tertullianus, “De monogamia”, Patrologiae. Cursus Completus. Paris: J. P. Migne editorem, 1844. II, cap. 13, línea 23: Igitur si mortificari nos iubet legi per corpus christi, quod est ecclesia... 40. Quien mejor ha estudiado estos problemas es Iogna-Prat, Dominique. La maison Dieu. Une histoire monumentale de l’Église au Moyen Âge. París: Seuil, 2006: 107-314.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 509 también con el de ‘iglesia’, no solo en Haimón, sino también en otros pensadores y exégetas caro-

nglish lingios. Pero esta cuestión se encuentra más allá de los alcances del presente trabajo.

E En el Comentario a I Cor hay una serie de fragmentos muy interesantes que presentan el orden in de la Iglesia, tal como Haimón lo concebía. Tal orden figura, en primer lugar, en el comentario a I Cor 12, 4: ubmitted Et divisiones ministrationum sunt. Verbi gratia: ut in episcopis, presbyteris, diaconibus, caeterisque ordinibus, S qui Spiritu sancto distribuente Ecclesiae ministri constituuntur, non per propriam hominis deliberationem, sed 41 n o t per Spiritus sancti efficientiam; idem autem Dominus, subaudis manet indivisus in omnibus. exts

T En este pasaje, Haimón también señala dos cuestiones. Primero, subraya la estructura de la

the jerarquía eclesiástica de acuerdo a sus grados aunque nombra expresamente a los de mayor jerar-

o f quía: obispos, sacerdotes y diáconos. En segundo lugar, señala que esa forma de organizar la Iglesia

es un producto de la intervención del Espíritu Santo, no de la invención humana. En su comentario a I Cor 12, 12, que hemos señalado más arriba, Haimón proponía la funciona-

riginals lidad de cada uno de los componentes del cuerpo eclesiástico. Por lo tanto, dentro de la Iglesia hay O lugar y utilidad para todos los cristianos, más allá de su pertenencia o no a la jerarquía eclesiástica. Como señala el mismo autor a continuación, el eje de la unidad del la Iglesia es el bautismo:

Etenim in uno Spiritu, subaudis, sancto, de quo scriptum est: ‘Ipse vos baptizabit in Spiritu sancto et igne’; et: ‘Nisi quis renatus fuerit ex aqua et Spiritu sancto’. Omnes nos in unum corpus baptizati sumus, id est, ad hoc baptizati sumus ut essemus unum corpus cum capite nostro Christo, et omnes in uno Spiritu potati sumus..42

La unión de los fieles entre sí es extremadamente fuerte y la forma en que Haimón la expresa es muy material, dice en el comentario a I Cor 12, 14:

Nam et corpus non unum est membrum, sed multa, quia unum membrum non facit corpus, sed multa simul nervis conglutinata: sic omnes credentes, sive sint sublimes vitae merito, sive parvi, unum corpus efficiunt, conglutinante eos virtute Spiritus sancti.43

En este fragmento, resulta interesante subrayar el uso de las formas participiales del verbo con- glutino. En primer lugar, éste es utilizado en su forma pasiva cuando Haimón señala que los multa

41. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 577a: “Y hay división de ministerios, verbi gracia, obispos, presbíteros, diáconos y los restantes órdenes, que fueron instituidos por el Espíritu Santo que los proveyó como minis- tros para la Iglesia, no por la propia decisión del hombre, sino por la acción del Espíritu Santo; pero solo existe un único Señor, es decir que permanece indiviso en todos”. 42. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 578d-579a: “También en efecto en un solo Espíritu, es decir Santo, acerca del cual está escrito: ‘el los bautizará en el Espíritu Santo y en el fuego’ (Lc 3, 16); y: ‘si no renaciera en el agua y el Espíritu Santo’ (Jn 3, 5). Todos nosotros en un solo cuerpo fuimos bautizados, o sea fuimos bautizados para esto, para que seamos un solo cuerpo con nuestro Cristo como cabeza y todos nos empapemos de un solo Espíritu”. 43. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579a: “Puesto que el cuerpo no es un solo miembro, sino muchos, porque un solo miembro no hace un cuerpo, sino muchos aglutinados al mismo tiempo con nervios, así los que son sublimes por los méritos de sus vidas, como los pequeños, conforman un solo cuerpo, por la fuerza del Espíritu Santo que los aglutina”.

510 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 (membra) simul nervis conglutinata (sunt). En segundo término, es empleado en su forma activa para

indicar que el agente aglutinador es la fortaleza del Espíritu Santo. n gl is h

En este punto tenemos que hacer un breve paréntesis. En otros trabajos que he realizado acerca E in de Haimón de Auxerre sostuve que su visión de la materia, la carne, el mundo y el cuerpo es ex- tremadamente negativa44. Esta imagen negativa se sustenta en la condición de monje de nuestro autor y está directamente relacionada con el contemptus mundi monástico. No debe sorprendernos, por lo tanto, en un escritor cristiano en general y menos aún en uno monástico. Ahora bien, ubm i tted S ¿cómo se concilian una imagen de la Iglesia como cuerpo con el desprecio de la carne? La solución no t a este problema es la gracia o la fortaleza (virtute) del Espíritu Santo. El elemento superador de esa aparente contradicción —en la teología de Haimón e, incluso, en las consecuencias eclesiológicas e x t s de la misma— es la acción del Espíritu. Es la tercera persona de la Trinidad la que dignifica ese T

corpus ecclesiasticus y lo eleva por encima de la materialidad para que pueda convertirse en aceptable the

para su cabeza, Cristo. o f

En el comentario a I Cor 12, 15 Haimón introduce por primera vez a los laicos en el texto como parte constitutiva del cuerpo eclesiástico: r i g in al s

Caput corporis sui, id est Ecclesiae, Christus est. Oculi hujus corporis, apostoli sunt intelligendi, de quibus O dicitur: ‘Pulchriores sunt oculi ejus vino’, sed et praedicatores qui sibi aliisque spiritualia provident; aures sunt fideles auditores; nares, qui vim discretionis habent inter odores virtutum fetoresque vitiorum; os, qui divina eloquia aliis eructant, id est doctores; manus, qui operantur unde alii vivant; pedes, qui in negotiis saecularibus ad utilitatem caeterorum discurrunt.45

La referencia a los laicos aparece, pues, de dos formas distintas. En primer lugar, en el concepto fideles, que los incluye. Según Haimón, los ojos del cuerpo eclesial son los apóstoles pero también los predicadores. El lugar por esencia de la predicación es ocupado tradicionalmente por los obispos aunque puede referirse también a otros grados de la jerarquía eclesiástica e incluso en los primeros tiempos del renacimiento carolingio podía incluir a los rectores laicos del reino46. Las orejas serían entonces los fieles, quienes reciben la palabra. El clero está presentado como la boca que emite el discurso divino. Pero, a continuación, Haimón hace una referencia directa a la función de los laicos dentro del cuerpo de la Iglesia, afirmando que aquellos que trabajan para que otros vivan son las manos del cuerpo eclesiástico —en tanto los pies son los hombres que se dedican a los negocios seculares—. Quienes trabajaban con las manos en la Europa carolingia de mediados del siglo IX eran sin duda los campesinos, en primer lugar, y los artesanos de distinto tipo en segundo término. Es más difícil identificar a quiénes se refiere el autor conpedes, qui in negotiis saecularibus ad utilitatem caeterorum discurrunt. Es tentador pensar que se trata de la aristocracia guerrera, puesto que es bien sabido que Haimón de Auxerre es el autor medieval más antiguo en el que aparece la división tri-

44. Hernández, Alfonso. “Haimón de Auxerre y el profeta Oseas. Exégesis monástica y profecía en el período carolin- gio”. Temas Medievales, 19 (2011): 109-111. 45. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579a-b: “La cabeza de su cuerpo, o sea de la Iglesia, es Cristo. Los ojos de ese cuerpo se debe entender que son los apóstoles, acerca de los cuales se dice: ‘más bellos son sus ojos que el vino’ (Gn 49, 12), pero también los predicadores que proveen de cosas espirituales a sí mismos y a los demás; las orejas son los fieles auditores; las narices quienes tienen la capacidad de distinguir entre los olores de las virtudes y las fetideces de los vicios; la boca quienes profieren los divinos discursos a los otros, o sea los doctores; las manos quienes producen de lo que todos viven; los pies quienes discurren en los negocios seculares para utilidad de los restantes”. 46. Lauwers, Michel. “Le glaive et la parole. Charlemagne, Alcuin et le modèle du rex praedicator: notes d’ecclésiologie carolingienne”. Annales de Bretagne et du pays de l’Ouest, 111 (2004): 221-243.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 511 funcional de la sociedad47. Estos pedes, al parecer, en principio serían laicos, puesto que se dedican

nglish a los negocios seculares. Sin embargo, sabemos que el clero carolingio estaba comprometido con la

E administración del reino y que muchos eclesiásticos se dedicaban a estos negocios seculares, aun- in que ello no fuera —al menos teóricamente— su función. Pero la afirmación de Haimón pertenece al plano de lo teórico y supone que el ámbito de los negocios seculares es propio de los miembros inferiores de la Iglesia, como explica nuestro monje siguiendo a san Pablo en I Cor 12, 22: Sed multo ubmitted magis quae videntur membra corporis infirmiora esse, sicut pedes sunt et manus, quae vilibus quibusque minis- S teriis deserviunt, necessaria sunt: quia pro toto corpore operantur....48 n o t Estos miembros inferiores son, casi con seguridad, laicos. De ser así, puede ser que los pedes refieran a la aristocracia guerrera carolingia pero también pueden incluir a grupos minoritarios de exts

T laicos —guerreros o no— dedicados a funciones públicas o al comercio. Aunque esto último parece

the ser lo más probable, el texto conserva cierta ambigüedad. La preocupación acerca del lugar y la

o f función de los laicos en el cuerpo eclesiástico aparece en otros autores carolingios, además de Hai-

món, puesto que no hay que olvidar que antes de la Reforma gregoriana clero y laico están mucho más integrados. En última instancia, el problema central para los intelectuales religiosos —que son 49 riginals la gran mayoría, aunque haya un puñado de laicos — es señalar una forma de ejercicio del poder O que permita a la elite laica llegar al cielo50. Haimón incluye explícitamente a dicha aristocracia guerrera dentro del cuerpo eclesiástico en el comentario a I Cor 12, 28, cuando explica el concepto de gubernationes que aparece en ese versí- culo: gubernationes, sicut in praelatis et regibus, episcopis aut ducibus....51 Ese versículo I Cor 12, 28 presenta los grados eclesiásticos, tal como san Pablo los concebía. En él, el apóstol solo realiza una enumeración de grados: primum apostolos, secundo prophetas, tertio docto- res, deinde virtutes, exinde donationes curationum, opitulationes, gubernationes, genera linguarum. Haimón realiza la exégesis de esos grados. En particular, La explicación que el autor carolingio realiza de las gubernationes es relevante para este trabajo. Haimón señala cuatro formas de gubernationes: prae- latis et regibus, episcopis et ducibus. Prelado en principio significa obispo pero —teniendo en cuenta que, a continuación, Haimón menciona a los obispos explícitamente y que coloca a los prelados junto con los reyes, mientras que a los obispos los ubica con los duques, o sea aristócratas— es

47. Iogna-Prat, Dominique. “Le ‘baptême’ du schema des trois ordres fonctionnels: l’apport de l’école d’Auxerre dans la seconde moitié du IXe siècle”. Annales Économies. Sociétés. Civilisations, 1986 (31) : 101-126; Ortigues, Edmond. “L’Elaboration de la théorie des trois ordres chez Haymon d’Auxerre”. Francia, 14 (1987): 17-43; Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre... : 181-227. 48. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 579d: “Pero más aún, aquellos miembros del cuerpo que son considerados los más débiles, son como los pies y las manos, que están consagrados a los ministerios viles, son necesarios: puesto que trabajan para todo el cuerpo”. 49. Ver Wormald, Patrick; Nelson, Janet L., eds. Lay Intellectuals in the Carolingian World. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni- versity Press, 2011. 50. El texto ya clásico para este problema es Chélini, Jean. L’aube du Moyen Âge. Naissance de la chrétienté occidentale. La vie religieuse des laïcs de l’Europe carolingienne (750-900). París: Picard, 1991 (2º ed. 1997). Raffaele Savigni ha realizado en sus trabajos una muy buena síntesis del problema, ver Savigni, Raffaelle. Giona di Orléans. Una ecclesiologia carolingia. Bolonia: Pàtron, 1989; Savigni, Raffaelle. “Les laïcs dans l’ecclésiologie carolingienne: normes statutaires et idéal de ‘conversion’ (à propos de Paulin d’Aquilèe, Jonas d’Orléans, Dhuoda et Hincmar de Reims)”, Guerriers et moines. Conversion et sainteté aristocratique dans l’Occident médiéval (IXe-XIIe), Michel Lauwers, ed. Niza: Antibes 2002: 41-92. Para Rachel Stone este camino pasa fundamentalmente por la instrucción de los laicos de acuerdo a los principios del Renacimiento carolingio, ver Stone, Rachel. “The rise and fall of the lay moral elite in carolingian Francia”, La culture du Haut Moyen Âge. Une question d’élites?, François Bougard, Régine Le Jan, Rosamond McKitterick, eds. Turnhout: Brepols: 363-375. 51. Halberstatensis, Haymonis “In I Cor”, Patrologiae... col. 580c: “gobernaciones, como en los prelados y reyes, en los obispos y duques (ducibus).”

512 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 muy probable que, en este contexto, debamos entender arzobispos por praelatis. Así se formarían

dos grupos de gubernationes. Los arzobispos y los reyes en el escalón más alto y los obispos y los n gl is h duques en el siguiente. La conjunción de dignidades eclesiásticas con dignidades seculares indica E in varias cosas. En primer término, muestra una realidad propia de la Edad Media y, sobre todo, de la Alta Edad Media, esto es, que no hay una distinción clara entre un poder puramente religioso y un poder puramente laico. Como consecuencia de ello, esto implica no sólo la aceptación del ca- rácter religioso del poder secular sino también la del carácter secular del poder religioso. Segundo, ubm i tted S aunque las gubernationes, como las presenta Haimón, pueden ser agrupadas en dos, los prelados son no t mencionados antes que los reyes, lo que daría preeminencia a los arzobispos sobre los monarcas. Si bien estos últimos aparecen antes que los obispos y ellos a su vez agrupados con el resto de la e x t s aristocracia laica —por lo tanto, por debajo del poder real—, en el lugar más alto de la escala de T 52 poder en el mundo hay una institución religiosa; los praelati . the

Otra cuestión interesante a señalar es que Haimón presenta todas las formas de gubernationes en o f plural, es decir que no hay preeminencia de ningún prelado ni de ningún rey en particular. Esto significa, por un lado, que el autor ignora las aspiraciones de la supremacía romana, sostenidas por

algunos Papas del siglo IX; por el otro, quizás dé cuenta de la realidad política carolingia posterior al r i g in al s tratado de Verdún, que dibuja un mapa político fraccionado entre varios reyes con un poder más o O menos equivalente aunque alguno de ellos posea el título de emperador. En todo caso, el ejercicio del gobierno de la Iglesia, o sea de la sociedad toda, es colegiado, como ya ha sido señalado por otros estudiosos del pensamiento de Haimón53.

4. Conclusión

En el pensamiento de Haimón la condición de cuerpo de Cristo, que san Pablo atribuía a la Iglesia, se identifica también con el cuerpo del sacrificio eucarístico. Cristo tiene un cuerpo real, su cuerpo histórico sacrificado en la Cruz. Pero también es real el cuerpo de la Eucaristía. Además, la Iglesia en cuanto cuerpo de Cristo se apoya en el realismo eucarístico. Cristo tiene tres cuerpos reales: el histórico, el sacramental y el eclesiástico. En este sentido se presenta en la exégesis hai- moniana un problema típico de las controversias eucarísticas carolingias: ¿qué significa real? Sobre todo, ¿qué significa real en sí mismo?, sin hacer referencia a una interpretación simbólica de la eucaristía. Se trata de un problema de difícil solución. Pero, la realidad de la eucaristía llena de realidad a ese cuerpo místico de Cristo que es la Iglesia. Sobre esa realidad Haimón construye su eclesiología. En esta existe el clero en sus distintos grados, que nosotros podríamos llamar jerárqui- cos, aunque ‘jerarquía’ sea un concepto que Haimón desconoce. Pero también se encuentran los laicos, también con una jerarquía que nuestro autor define con menos claridad pero que incluye a reyes, duques —aristocracia guerrera—, trabajadores manuales y quizás comerciantes y burócra- tas. El gobierno de ese cuerpo que es la Iglesia es tarea de arzobispos —praelati—, obispos, reyes y duques, es decir, se trata de un gobierno colegiado mixto de autoridad tanto religiosa como laica,

52. Sumi Shimahara estudió sobre la base de textos exegéticos la forma en que la elite laica queda relegada en un lugar secundario a partir de mediados del siglo IX, Shimahara, Sumi. “L’éxégèse biblique et les élites: qui sont les recteurs de l’Église à l’époque carolingienne?”, La culture du Haut Moyen Âge. Une question d’élites?, François Bougard, Régine Le Jan, Rosamond McKitterick, eds. Turnhout: Brepols: 201-217. 53. Para Ortigues Haimón es partidario de un gobierno colegiado y episcopalista de la Iglesia, ver Ortigues, Edmond. “Haymon d’Auxerre, théoricien des trois ordres”, L’École Carolingienne d’Auxerre...: 205-213.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 513 quizás con una leve supremacía de la primera sobre la segunda. Por último, Haimón no establece

nglish que haya primados ni entre las autoridades religiosas ni entre las laicas.

E Esta construcción eclesiológica es tan real cuanto real sea la presencia de Cristo en el pan euca- in rístico sacramental, consagrado en el altar, en el interior de una iglesia, o sea en un espacio contro- lado exclusivamente por el clero. Por lo tanto, —si queremos tener una comprensión acabada de las eclesiologías carolingias y del lugar de la eucaristía en ella— es necesario estudiar el lugar que ubmitted ocupan los conceptos de iglesia, templo y altar, tanto en el pensamiento de Haimón como en el de S otros intelectuales de la época. n o t exts T the o f riginals O

514 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 504-514. ISSN 1888-3931 Il ruolo del batlle general e il castello di Acquafredda

NEL REGNUM SARDINIAE ALLA FINE DEL XIV SECOLO n gl is h E in

Alessandra Cioppi Istituto di Storia dell’Europa Mediterranea (Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche) ubm i tted S no t

riassunto e x t s

Il presente studio analizza la difesa e gli approvvigionamenti alla fortezza catalano-aragonese T

di Acquafredda, sopravvissuta nel meridione della Sardegna, alla fine del XIV secolo, agli attacchi the

delle truppe arborensi. Fondamentale in questo contesto è il ruolo del batlle general del Regnum o f

Sardiniae, le cui prerogative istituzionali di amministratore e responsabile del patrimonio regio si confondono con le funzioni politiche, di gestione e difesa del regno sardo-catalano, ormai sull’orlo

del tracollo. Lo studio intende ripercorrere le vicende del castello di Acquafredda, una delle fortez- r i g in al s ze meridionali del Regnum Sardiniae catalano-aragonese, al fine di aggiungere una nuova tessera O nel complicato mosaico dell’organizzazione difensiva nel regno sardo-catalano alla fine del XIV secolo1.

Il tema, pur essendo territorialmente limitato e cronologicamente ben caratterizzato, traccia il quadro di una realtà che inserita nel panorama storico generale permette di meglio definirlo e valutarlo. L’attenzione è rivolta alle dimensioni più concrete e domestiche della quotidianità; si mettono in luce aspetti, realtà e abitudini che evidenziano il carattere esperienziale della storia e, interpretando lo stesso silenzio delle fonti, si cerca di capire e di ricostruire le condizioni di vita all’interno di un castello medioevale2. Il materiale documentario alla base di questo contributo è conservato presso l’Archivio della Corona d’Aragona di Barcellona ed è costituito da tre libri contabili che, in qualità di batlle general di Sardegna, Jordi de Planella compilò per rendicontare le spese relative all’approvvigionamento e alla difesa dei castelli catalano-aragonesi sopravvissuti nella Sardegna meridionale, fra i quali è presente la fortezza di Acquafredda3. Per assolvere a tale mandato egli ebbe l’incarico di ammi- nistrare un finanziamento straordinario, erogato con enormi difficoltà dall’Aragona, nel tentativo estremo di salvaguardare il regno sardo oltremarino che, nello scorcio del Trecento, si presentava ormai sull’orlo del baratro 4.

1. Abbrevazioni frequenti: ACA, Archivo de la Corona de Aragón; ASCa, Archivio di Stato di Cagliari. 2. Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità. Corona d’Aragona e Regnum Sardiniae nella seconda metà del Trecento.Ca- gliari: Istituto di Storia dell'Europa Mediterranea (Consiglio Nazionale delle Richerche)-AM&D Edizioni, 2012: 147-158. 3. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, regg. 2484, 2485, 2486. 4. Sulle vicende del grande conflitto sardo-iberico: Casula, Francesco Cesare.La Sardegna aragonese. 1. La Corona d’A- ragona, 2. La Nazione Sarda. Sassari: Chiarella, 1990.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 515 1. Il case study del batlle general nel Regnum Sardiniae

nglish Negli stati della Corona d’Aragona la batllia general era un’istituzione dall’attività e dall’influen-

E za veramente straordinarie, non solo per la grande rilevanza e dignità della carica, ma per la mol- in teplicità di contatti che essa doveva costantemente mantenere con funzionari, nobili, personaggi influenti e, allo stesso tempo, gente comune; per l’autorevolezza che su questi riusciva ad esercita- re; per le molteplici situazioni in cui aveva la facoltà di intervenire, e, soprattutto, per le continue ubmitted e fondamentali relazioni che intratteneva con il re. S Il compito principale del batlle general era quello di amministrare il patrimonio regio del quale n o t percepiva i diritti; di esercitare la giurisdizione civile e criminale in ambiti molto ampi; di avere competenze in materia feudale e mercantile. Erano di sua pertinenza anche le questioni relative exts

T alle fiere e ai mercati, ai mulini e alle acque pubbliche, alle dogane e ai beni vacanti, ai bottini e 5 the ai patrimoni acquisiti attraverso i naufragi, all’importazione ed esportazione delle merci . Nello

o f svolgimento delle sue mansioni, soprattutto di quelle riguardanti il patrimonio reale o il fisco, era

affiancato da un procuratore fiscale e la sua gestione, relativamente alla parte economica, passava, nonostante la sua autorevolezza, al vaglio del maestro razionale.

riginals La batllia general, sconosciuta nell’isola, ma ben consolidata già dal XIII secolo negli altri stati O della Corona d’Aragona, fu istituita in Sardegna dal sovrano Giovanni I con il compito di ammini- strare in piena autonomia il patrimonio reale nel regno isolano e ricavare utili per le finanze for- temente compromesse6. Il re aveva preso atto, infatti, della negligenza e incapacità dei funzionari regi, ai quali imputava la responsabilità del collasso dell’erario che non era più sufficiente a far fronte a pagamenti straordinari per le urgenti necessità del regno e tanto meno a garantire la difesa del territorio sardo7. Ma per quanto le malversazioni degli ufficiali fossero diffuse ed evidenti esse non erano l’unica causa di crisi del patrimonio regio, il quale, tra la fine del XIV e la prima metà del XV secolo, attraversò uno dei momenti più complessi e delicati per la monarchia aragonese non solo nel Regnum Sardiniae, ma in tutti i territori della Corona. Lo stato di guerra pressoché permanente che aveva caratterizzato i rapporti conflittuali interni ed internazionali dell’Aragona e le ingenti spese militari impiegate su vari fronti spinsero i sovrani catalani ad una progressiva intensificazione delle alienazioni patrimoniali8.

5. Sulla figura delbatlle general si confrontino Aragó, Antonio Maria. “La Institución Baiulus regis en Cataluña en la época de Alfonso el Casto”, VII Congreso de Historia de la Corona de Aragón (Barcelona, 1-6 octubre 1962) Comunicaciones. Barcelona: Vídua de Fidel Rodríguez, 1962: III, 137-142; Montagut, Tomàs de. “El batlle general de Catalunya”. Hacienda Pública Española, 87 (1984): 73-84; García de Valdeavellano, Luis. Curso de historia de las istituciones españolas. De los orígenes al final de la Edad Media. Madrid: Ediciones de la Revista de Occidente, 1968: 516-517. Sul batlle general di Valenza: Piles, Leopoldo. Estudio documental sobre el bayle general de Valencia, su autoridad y jurisdicción. Valencia: Institución Alfonso el Magnánimo-Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1970; Guinot, Enric. “La batllia general de València: gestors i beneficiaris”,Col·loqui Corona, Municipis i Fiscalitat a la Baixa Edat Mitjana, Manuel Sánchez, Antoni Furió, eds. Lleida: Intitut d’Estudis Ilerdencs, 1997: 577-601. Ancora sul batlle general di Catalogna si confronti Sánchez, Manuel. “Batlle”, Diccionari d’Història de Catalunya, Jesús Mestre, Josep Maria Salrach, Josep Termes, eds. Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1992: 111. Ricordiamo che solo con i Decrets de Nova Planta (1707-1716) l’istituto della batllia general fu soppresso nella penisola iberica e i suoi compiti passarono nelle mani dell’Intendencia. 6. Giovanni I cercò di esercitare un maggiore controllo sulla gestione dei pubblici uffici per cercare di limitare le frodi. ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 173r; Casula, Francesco Cesare. Carte reali diplomatiche di Giovanni I il Cacciatore, re d’Arago- na, riguardanti l’Italia. Padova: CEDAM, 1977: 65 (doc. no 35), 151 (doc. no 129), 159 (doc. no 135). 7. Dalla lettura della documentazione dell’epoca è evidente che gli ufficiali regi non solo non rispettavano le disposizioni del sovrano, ma cercavano al contrario di far prevalere i loro interessi personali. Casula, Francesco Cesare. Carte Reali Diplomatiche...: 65 (doc. no 36), 151 (doc. no 129), 159 (doc. no 135) e si veda ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 173r. 8. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “El patrimoni reial i la recuperació dels senyorius jurisdiccionals en els estats catalano-aragone- sos a la fi del segle XIV”.Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 7 (1970-1971), 351-491: 351-353 e i quadri finali comprovanti

516 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 Nello specifico, per quanto atteneva alla questione sarda, sempre più complessa a causa del

continuo stato di belligeranza con il giudicato d’Arborea, il sovrano Pietro IV si era impegnato già n gl is h da qualche tempo a ridefinire in maniera organica i principi fondamentali di governo dell’isola9. E in A tale proposito, aveva fatto sentire la sua voce in varie occasioni, spesso su esplicita richiesta dei governatori isolani, puntualizzando ordinanze già emanate e promulgandone nuove su questioni riguardanti l’amministrazione regia e, in particolare, i salari e il funzionamento degli uffici10. Nonostante ciò, quando il figlio Giovanni gli successe al trono nel 1387, la situazione era tale da ubm i tted S costringere il nuovo sovrano d’Aragona ad affrontare e a regolamentare con maggiore oculatezza no t il problema delle spese11. In questo difficile contesto, il monarca sembrò indirizzare tutte le sue aspettative sulla creazione della batllia general, che nell’affidare la gestione finanziaria del regno e x t s ad una sola persona con ampi poteri di controllo, avrebbe dovuto rendere effettivo un maggiore T 12 riscontro sui diritti spettanti alla Corona . Aboliti gli uffici delle due amministrazioni del Capo the

di Cagliari e Gallura e del Capo di Logudoro, Giovanni I creava una nuova carica, la cui compe- o f tenza, oltre alle prerogative inerenti l’originaria funzione istituzionale, avrebbe dovuto avocare a sé quelle delle due amministrazioni generali di Sardegna e ne avrebbe comprese altre di natura 13 giurisdizionale . r i g in al s O

gli anni delle vendite patrimoniali; Sánchez, Manuel. “La fiscalidad real en Catalunya (siglo XIV)”.Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 22 (1992): 341-376; Guinot, Enric. “El Patrimoni Reial al País Valencià a inicis del segle XV”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 22 (1992): 581-655; Sánchez, Manuel. El naixement de la fiscalitat d’Estat a Catalunya. Girona: Eumo Editorial, 1995: 107-134; Sánchez, Manuel. Pagar al rey en la Corona de Aragón durante el s. XIV. Barcelona: Consejo Supe- rior de Investigaciones Científicas-Institución Milá y Fontanals, 2003; Ortí, Pere. Corts, Parlaments i fiscalitat a Catalunya: els capítols del donatiu (1288-1384). Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 1997: 71-87; Mira, Antonio José. Entre la renta y el impuesto. Fiscalidad, finanzas y crecimiento económicos en la villas reales del sur valencianos (siglos XIV-XVI). Valencia: Publica- cions de la Universitat de València, 2005; López, José Francisco. “Para una historia fiscal de la Mallorca cristiana (siglos XIII-XIV)”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 38/1 (enero-junio 2008): 101-184; Sabaté, Flocel. “L’augment de l’exigència fiscal en els municipis catalans al segle XIV: elements de pressió i de resposta”,Col·loqui Corona, Municipis i Fiscalitat a la Baixa Edat Mitjana, Manuel Sánchez, Antoni Furió, eds. Lleida: Intitut d’Estudis Ilerdencs, 1997: 423-465 e tutti i saggi editi in questo volume miscellaneo. 9. La corruzione dei funzionari della Corona imperversava già all’epoca di Pietro IV: Cort general de Montsó (1382-1384), Ignasi Baiges, Anna Rubió, Elisa Varela, eds. Barcelona: Generalitat de Catalunya, 1992: 219-242. 10. Già nel 1352 su istanza di Rambau de Corbera, governatore generale del regno, Pietro IV approvò gran parte dei capitoli da quest’ultimo trasmessi dietro suo ordine, circa una ridistribuzione più dettagliata dei salari e una riorga- nizzazione più idonea delle cariche pubbliche. Arienzo, Luisa Maria. Carte reali diplomatiche di Pietro IV il Cerimonioso, re d’Aragona, riguardanti l’Italia. Padova: CEDAM, 1970: 192 (doc. no 377), 193 (doc. no 193); Costa, Maria Mercè. “Oficials de Pere el Cerimonios a Sasser (1336-1387)”, La Sardegna nel mondo mediterraneo. 2. Gli aspetti storici, Atti del primo Conve- gno internazionale di studi geografico-storici (Sassari, 7-9 aprile 1978), Manlio Brigaglia, ed. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1981: 291-314 e Costa, Maria Mercè. “Oficials de la Corona d’Aragó a Sardenya (segle XIV). Notes biogràfiques”.Archivio Storico Sardo, 29 (1964): 340-343. Per la prammatica di Pietro IV si confronti lo studio di Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico di Pietro IV d’Aragona per i territori del Cagliaritano. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1933: 1-78. 11. Il testo originale è in ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 145-147v. Le spese ammontavano ad una somma così elevata che le entrate derivanti complessivamente dalle rendite e dai diritti regi dell’isola non erano più sufficienti a farvi fron- te. La prammatica di Giovanni I riproponeva per linee generali gli ordinamenti sulla riorganizzazione degli uffici del Cagliaritano, promulgati trentacinque anni prima da Pietro IV. Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 15-52; Ferrer, M. Teresa. “El patrimoni reial...”: 351-491. 12. Per l’istituzione del batlle general del regno di Sardegna si veda ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 171 e sulle premesse che portarono alla decisione di istituire tale carica nel regno sardo Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo generale nel regno di Sardegna (1391-1401)”, El poder real en la Corona de Aragón (siglos XIV-XVI), XV Congreso de Historia de la Corona de Aragón (Jaca, 20-25 septiembre 1993). Zaragoza: Diputación General de Aragón, 1996): I/3, 93-109. 13. La soppressione delle due cariche di amministratori generali è in ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, f. 171r. Sui compiti del batlle general di Sardegna si legga la charta commissionis in ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, ff. 166v-168r; Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità...: 201-229.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 517 Malgrado le intenzioni, l’istituto della batllia ebbe nell’isola una vita relativamente breve. Mar-

nglish tino I, succeduto al fratello Giovanni I nel 1396, lo abolì nel 1401, ritenendolo inutile all’ammi-

E nistrazione del regno e ancora infruttuoso per il controllo dei diritti regi14. In sostituzione reintro- in dusse la carica degli amministratori generali e ripristinò i due governatorati del Capo di Cagliari e di Gallura e del Capo di Logudoro, istituiti a suo tempo da Pietro IV15. Anche questo cambio di tendenza, tuttavia, non fu ugualmente duraturo. Le ragioni che ave- ubmitted vano portato alla creazione nel regno sardo dell’ufficio dellabatllia si ripresentarono irrisolte già S nel primo decennio del secolo successivo, perché irrisolti erano rimasti i problemi legati allo stato n o t di guerra. Solo più tardi, nel 1413, durante il regno di Ferdinando I e in un clima ormai di avviata pacificazione dell’isola, furono attuati importanti ed efficaci provvedimenti che diedero una svolta exts 16 T definitiva alla situazione . Le due amministrazioni generali furono nuovamente abolite e sostitu- 17 the ite da un nuovo, unico istituto patrimoniale, la procurazione reale .

o f L’istituzione della batllia general del regno di Sardegna fu ufficializzata, dunque, nel febbraio

del 1391, quando con una cartha commissionis Giovanni I affidava l’incarico a Berenguer Xicot18. A cinque mesi dalla nomina di quest’ultimo l’ufficio passava nelle mani di Jordi de Planella, per-

riginals sonaggio di spicco e noto a corte, la cui attività da questo momento in poi si inserisce e si intreccia O nelle vicende politico-economiche dell’isola19. Il continuo stato di guerra e i condizionamenti del potere regio, i conflitti d’interesse e le pres- sioni politiche a livello locale fecero sì che Planella ottenesse, in pratica, funzioni di natura ammi- nistrativa, politica e militare, le quali modificarono profondamente il suo ruolo, le funzioni istitu- zionali proprie del suo ufficio e l’attribuzione e distribuzione delle sue competenze. A questo riguardo la documentazione archivistica barcellonese ci fornisce dati interessanti con i quali possiamo ricostruire anche gli aspetti più concreti dell’attività che egli svolse nel Regnum Sardiniae, attività che lo vide più spesso impegnato in interventi di tipo straordinario, volti alla salvezza e al recupero del regno sardo, piuttosto che al normale svolgimento dei compiti e delle

14. Sulla breve durata della batllia general di Sardegna si veda ACA. Cancillería, reg. 2226, ff. 167v-169r, ff. 181v-183v; Boscolo, Alberto. La politica italiana di Martino il Vecchio re d’Aragona. Padova: CEDAM, 1962: 77-80; Olla Repetto, Ga- briella. “L’Istituto del ‘Procurator Regius Regni Sardiniae’ sotto Alfonso il Magnanimo”, La Corona d’Aragona e il Mediter- raneo: aspetti e problemi comuni da Alfonso il Magnanimo a Ferdinando il Cattolico (1416-1516), IX Congresso di Storia della Corona d’Aragona (Napoli, 11-15 aprile 1973). Napoli: Società Napoletana di Storia Patria, 1982: II, 135-145. Oltre alla carica unica del batlle general, il cui risultato fu considerato nel complesso inconcludente, un tentativo di gestione unitaria del regno era già stato effettuato nel 1387, sempre da Giovanni I, quando si creò nell’isola l’ufficio di luogotenente del tesoriere d’Aragona, istituto che ebbe anch’esso, in verità, una durata brevissima. Per un ulteriore approfondimento Tore, Gian- franco. “Il documento istitutivo dell’ufficio di luogotenente del tesoriere d’Aragona nel ‘Regno di Sardegna’ (1387)”. Archivio Storico Sardo, 34. (1983): 111-123 e Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “L’Istituto del Procurator Regius...”: 135. 15. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, B6, ff. 265r-268r. 16. Meloni, Giuseppe; Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Demografia e fiscalità nei territori regi del regno di Sardegna al principio del XV secolo”, El poder real en la Corona de Aragón...: I/3, 155-188. 17. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, B6, ff. 265-267. Sull’istituzione della procurazione reale di Sardegna, le funzioni e l’importanza di tale carica si veda Olla Repetto, Gabriella. Il primo “liber curiae” della Procurazione reale di Sardegna (1413- 1425). Roma: Ministero dell’Interno, 1974: 3-76 (Fonti e Sussidi. Pubblicazione degli Archivi di Stato. Archivio di Stato di Cagliari, V); Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “L’istituto del Procurator Regius...”: 136. 18. Sulla nomina di Berenguer Xicot si veda ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1939, ff. 166v-168; Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo generale...”: 93-109. 19. Ancora oggi non sono chiari i motivi per cui avvenne il passaggio di mandato tra i due ufficiali regi. Carla Ferrante (Ferrante, Carla. “L’istituzione del bailo...”: 105) riporta la notizia del subentro di Jordi de Planella allo Xicot, ma riferisce di non aver rinvenuto il decreto di nomina del primo. Il provvedimento o charta commissionis (31 luglio 1391), con cui Planella riceve l’incarico di batlle è stato, invece, reperito presso l’archivio barcellonese da Alessandra Cioppi: Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie dell’invincibilità...: 217 e ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1940, ff. 79v-82v.

518 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 funzioni connesse al mandato di batlle general. Nel triennio 1396-1399, infatti, coadiuvato da altri

ufficiali regi, egli fu l’amministratore di un finanziamento straordinario che prevedeva la ripartizio- n gl is h ne in tre anni di una cospicua somma di denaro, pari a 15.050 fiorini d’oro d’Aragona20, finalizzata E in all’estrema difesa del territorio isolano. Di questo piano finanziario esiste un preciso resoconto, redatto dalbatlle e oggetto del nostro studio, nel quale il funzionario regio dava ragione del suo operato. Ad ogni stanziamento annuale egli faceva corrispondere un libro contabile in cui annotava ogni voce di spesa in entrata e in usci- ubm i tted S ta, suddividendola per capitoli; vi allegava gli atti di pagamento originali e le quietanze rilasciate no t dai beneficiari delle spese, dai creditori o dai fornitori di beni e servizi, che attestavano non solo la veridicità delle sue registrazioni ma anche l’effettiva necessità dei costi sostenuti21. e x t s

Attraverso la lettura dei libri di conto, il cui contenuto trascende un interesse strettamente T

locale, è possibile cogliere alcuni aspetti del problema della difesa attiva e passiva nella Sardegna the

catalano-aragonese della seconda metà del Trecento. Già alla fine del regno di Pietro IV, la situa- o f zione, assai critica per la guerra serrata e violenta con il giudicato d’Arborea, aveva pesantemente condizionato la politica aragonese e gli interventi della Corona in favore di un mantenimento

adeguato del sistema difensivo del Regnum Sardiniae. Le notizie riferite nelle registrazioni contabili r i g in al s del batlle Planella aggiungono nuovi e interessanti elementi di analisi, che arricchiscono il dibattito O scientifico e consentono di capire quale fu il costo della guerra del regno di Sardegna nell’ultimo scorcio del XIV secolo, quando, nonostante gli sforzi compiuti dalla monarchia catalana, la tenace e secolare resistenza del possedimento sardo oltremarino rischiava di trascinare l’Aragona nel ba- ratro di una completa disfatta. In particolare è possibile ricostruire l’amministrazione dei castelli ancora in mano iberica e gli impegni finanziari connessi alla loro organizzazione e salvaguardia, dal momento che giammai da parte dei sovrani catalani fu abbandonato il proposito di chiudere in maniera definitiva la “que- stione sarda”. Soprattutto sono minuziosamente indicati i capitoli di spesa relativi a tre fortezze, oggetto dell’intervento straordinario: Castell de Càller, la capitale del regno, fortemente a rischio nonostante le sue possenti mura e fortificazioni; San Michele, insostituibile avamposto verso l’en- troterra cagliaritano e i Campidani; Acquafredda, caposaldo della vasta curatorìa del Sigerro, ai confini della regione mineraria del Sulcis-Iglesiente. In particolare per quest’ultimo, le notizie contenute nella documentazione del batlle general offrono un’abbondante messe di informazioni utili per tratteggiare, seppure a grosse linee, le sue travagliate vicende.

2. Un esempio nel castelliere sardo: Acquafredda

Il castello di Acquafredda, eretto come fortilizio in periodo giudicale, visse in forma embrionale lo slancio economico-sociale di matrice pisana tra il XIII e il XIV secolo, e passò alla famiglia toscana

20. Il 29 maggio 1396 gli amministratori generali per la difesa della Sardegna, Francesch Foix e Felip de Ferrera, su ordine del re diedero incarico a Jordi de Planella di gestire i fondi per la difesa degli ultimi baluardi catalano-aragonesi superstiti nel meridione dell’isola. Si veda ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484 (1396-1397), f. 1r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485 (1397-1398), f. 1; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486 (1398-1399), f. 1. 21. Ciascuna registrazione di reebudes e di dates è affiancata sistematicamente da unacarta debitoria o un’àpocha, auten- ticate dagli interessati al cospetto di un notaio che risulta essere sempre Guillelm Casanova, il quale rogava in quegli anni a Castell de Càller.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 519 dei Gherardesca, conti di Donoratico, giungendo, secondo gli studi più accreditati, nelle mani del

nglish conte Ugolino. Quell’Ugolino che, a seguito della vittoria pisana sui genovesi nel 1258, dominerà

E con il fratello Gherardo sul terzo meridionale dell’ex-giudicato di Cagliari e, dopo essere stato te- in nuto prigioniero nella Torre della fame dal Comune di Pisa, verrà collocato dall’Alighieri in uno dei più profondi gironi infernali22. Le funzioni di questa fortezza, nata con buona probabilità per la gestione del territorio minera- ubmitted rio, erano essenzialmente militari ed era abitato prevalentemente da soldati, delegati alla protezio- S ne di quel vasto territorio, ricco di miniere d’argento e di piombo. Provvisto di una cinta muraria n o t esterna, attualmente in gran parte diroccata, il corpo del castello era costituito da due torri estreme e da una torre centrale, il cosiddetto mastio, a cui era affidata l’ultima difesa. Le torri, collegate tra exts

T loro da ponti merlati in muratura, avevano le caditoie, le feritoie e i merli di forma quadrata e pro-

the teggevano al loro interno alcune costruzioni di utilizzo particolare: gli alloggiamenti, i magazzini,

23 o f le stalle e, soprattutto, le cisterne per l’acqua .

Dopo la conquista catalano-aragonese dell’isola, la fortezza, considerata da Alfonso d’Aragona magnae fortitudinis, passò direttamente al controllo dell’amministrazione regia24. A tale incarico fu

riginals preposto un castellano, il quale aveva il compito di vigilare sul maniero e l’intera castellanìa, costi- O tuita da una piccola rete di villaggi adiacenti. Con il passare del tempo questo ufficio divenne una carica ambita e con una cospicua rendita, dal momento che l’incarico era finalizzato al comando e alla salvaguardia della fortificazione e al controllo del territorio circostante. Infatti, era dovere del castellano esercitare funzioni di praeses nei confronti delle persone residenti nel castello e nel borgo, militari o civili che fossero, ed era sua responsabilità la gestione di un badget annuale —la retinençia— con il quale provvedere alla sua ricompensa25, alle spese di manutenzione ordinaria della struttura, agli approvvigionamenti, al salario di un congruo numero di mercenari alle sue dipendenze e, infine, al soldo delle guardie —iservents — che garantivano la difesa della fortezza stessa26. Tra il 1334 e il 1360 la carica di castellano fu ricoperta da personaggi importanti e di alto rango quali Napoleó e Jaume de Aragó, figli illegittimi del re Giacomo II; Nicolau de Libiá e Amorós de Ribelles, entrambi fratelli di governatori generali del regno; Ramon d’Empuries, marito di Ale-

22. Sul conte Ugolino della Gherardesca, conte di Donoratico (Dante Alighieri, Divina Commedia, Inferno, c. XXXIII) e sui componenti della casata coinvolti nelle vicende sarde si vedano Genealogie medioevali di Sardegna, Lindsay L. Brook, Francesco Cesare Casula, eds. Sassari: 2D Editrice Mediterranea, 1984: XI-XIII, 232-249; Toscanelli, Nello. I conti di Donoratico della Gherardesca, signori di Pisa. Pisa: Nistri-Lischi, 1937 e Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento. Iglesias dalle origini alla fine del Medioevo. Napoli: Liguori, 1985. 23. Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua. Contributo alla storia delle fortificazioni in Sardegna”.Studi Sardi, 17 (1959-1961): 441-461; Coroneo, Roberto. Architettura romanica dalla metà del Mille al primo ‘300. Nuoro: Ilisso, 1993: 289 e il volume. Il castello di Acquafredda. Note di storia e archeologia, Donatella Salvi, Ilaria Garbi, eds. Settimo Milanese: RTP Castelli di Sardegna-Soprintendenza Archeologica per le provv. di Cagliari e Oristano, 2010: 18-36. 24. Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda: appunti sulla vita quotidiana in una fortezza sarda nel Tre- cento”. Quaderni bolotanesi, 18 (1992): 265-299. 25. Il castellano percepiva uno stipendio medio di 5.000 soldi l’anno con valori estremi che oscillavano dai 2.000 ai 16.000 soldi di alfonsini minuti. Si veda ASCa. Procurazione Reale, B6, f. 51, f. 78v, f. 92, f. 125; Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda...”: 272. 26. Per gli incarichi attribuiti al castellano Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 236-246; Olla Repetto, Gabriella. Gli ufficiali regi di Sardegna durante il regno di Alfonso IV. Cagliari: Fossataro, 1969: 44-45; Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 30, 41-42, 72-73.

520 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 grança, nipote prediletta ed erede di Jaume de Aragó; Dalmazzo de Jardí, futuro vicario di Alghero 27 e governatore generale del Capo di Logudoro . n gl is h

La guerra di liberazione che il giudicato d’Arborea intraprese contro l’Aragona, soprattutto E in a partire dalla seconda metà del XIV secolo28, costrinse quest’ultima a mantenere militarizzati i castelli, i quali solo nel primo periodo della sua dominazione, e per breve tempo, poterono essere avvicinati ai benefici feudali29. Lo scontro serrato e violento, che percorse il regno di Sardegna fino ai primi decenni del XV secolo, impose un necessario ritorno all’antico e pressoché esclusivo ruolo ubm i tted S militare delle fortezze e cancellò ogni velleità di fare di esse una fonte di reddito o di concessioni no t onorifiche, riconducendole a dure postazioni di prima linea, frequentemente attaccate, assediate e in lotta per la sopravvivenza. La guerra statica, quindi, ha avuto in Sardegna una grandissima rile- e x t s vanza come tattica militare, non solo durante le fasi della conquista ma, soprattutto, nella conser- T 30 vazione dello stesso regno tra la metà del XIV secolo ed i primi del XV . In mancanza di sufficienti the

risorse per mantenere stabile il possedimento oltremarino nel contesto delle difficoltà economiche o f in cui versava, la monarchia aragonese fu costretta ad utilizzare questa tipologia di conflitto, anche se non facilmente incanalabile e fonte di continui contrasti e contraddizioni31. Nel momento in r i g in al s O 27. Costa, Maria Mercè. “Oficials de la Corona d’Aragó a Sardenya (segle XIV). Notes biogràfiques”.Archivio Storico Sar- do, 29 (1964): 325-327, 363-369, 373-377. Napoleó de Aragó, nato da Gerolda, moglie del nobile Gualtiero Campagna di Mileto e concubina del sovrano Giacomo II (Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 366), era fratellastro di Jaume, anche lui figlio bastardo del re d’Aragona e di una certa siciliana, Lucrezia, andata poi sposa a Vanno de Bo- navita. Si vedano Genealogie medioevali di Sardegna: XL, 456-457. Amorós de Ribelles, invece, dovette essere un membro della famiglia di Ramon de Ribelles, quest’ultimo fidato consigliere dell’infante Alfonso e governatore generale del regno di Sardegna a partire dal 1337. Nicolau de Libiá probabilmente era il fratello di Pere, allora governatore generale dell’isola (Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 284). 28. Per una puntuale ricostruzione degli avvenimenti: Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 365-412; Anatra, Bruno. “Dall’unificazione aragonese ai Savoia”,La Sardegna medioevale e moderna. Storia d’Italia. X, John Day, Bruno Anatra, Lucetta Scaraffia, eds. Torino: UTET, 1984: 189-663 (191-364). 29. Tangheroni, Marco. “Il ‘Regnum Sardiniae et Corsicae’ nell’espansione mediterranea della Corona d’Aragona. Aspet- ti economici”, La Corona d’Aragona in Italia (secc. XIII-XVIII), XIV Congresso di Storia della Corona d’Aragona (Sassari-Alghero, 19-24 maggio 1990). Sassari: Carlo Delfino Editore, 1993: I, 49-88; Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 282-284. 30. La rilevanza che questa tipologia di conflitto ha avuto in Sardegna è stata oggetto di studio di Maria Teresa Ferrer Mallol, la cui analisi, seppure tesa a mettere in luce “l’aspetto catalano” del problema, è certamente quella più ricca e documentata. 31. Ferrer, Maria Teresa. El patrimoni reial...: 351-491; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. Organització i defensa d’un territori fronterer. La governació d’Oriola en el segle XIV. Barcelona: CSIC, 1990; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “Barcelona i la politica mediterrània catalana: el Parlament de 1400-1401”, La Corona d’Aragona in Italia...: II/1, 427-443; Ferrer, Maria Teresa. “La guerra d’Arborea alla fine del XIV secolo”,Giudicato d’Arborea e Marchesato di Oristano: proiezioni mediterranee e aspetti di storia locale, 1 Convegno Internazionale di Studi (Oristano, 5-8 dicembre 1997), Giampaolo Mele, coord. Oristano: ISTAR, 2000: 2/1, 535-620; Ferrer, Maria Teresa “La organización militar de Cataluña en la Edad Media”, Conquistar y defender. Los recursos militares en la Edad Media hispánica, Miguel Ángel Ladero, coord. Revista de Historia Militar, 45 (2001): 119-222. Affiancano l’opera della Ferrer gli studi di Sáiz, Jorge. Guerra y nobleza en la Corona de Aragón. La caballeria en los ejércitos del Rey (siglos XIV-XV). Valencia: Servei de Publicacions de la Universitat de València, 2003 e Sáiz, Jorge. “La organización militar en la expansión mediterránea de la Corona de Aragón, siglos XIV y XV”, La Mediterrània de la Corona d’Aragó, segles XIII-XVI & VII Centenari de la sentència arbitral de Torrellas, 1304-2004, Actes XVIII Congrés Internacional d’Història de la Corona d’Aragó (València, 9-14 setembre 2004). Valencia: Universitat de València, 2005: I, 737-764; Hernández, Francesc Xavier. Historia militar de Catalunya. Aproximació didáctica. Barcelona: Dalmau, 2004; Bertran, Prim. “La nobleza catalana y la guerra de Cerdeña de 1354. La expedición de 1354”. Hidalguía, 46/271 (1998): 737-755; Orsi, Mario. “Estrategia, operaciones y logística en un conflicto mediterráneo. La revuelta del juez de Arborea y la “armada e viatge” de Pedro el Ceremonioso a Cerdeña (1353-1354)”. Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 38/2 (2008): 921-968. Basilari per la nostra indagine, anche se riferibili all’area iberica, sono i contributi di Cabanes, Maria Desamparados. “Los castillos de frontera en el reino de Valencia”. Estudios de la Edad Media de la Corona de Aragón, 10 (1975): 653-669; Martínez, Luis Pablo. “La historia militar del reino medieval de Valencia: balance y perspectivas”. Militaria. Revista de cultura militar, 11 (1998): 29-75; Sesma, José Ángel. “Guerra, ejército y sociedad en los reinos de Aragón y Navarra en la Edad Media”. Revista de Historia Militar, 1 (2002): 13-48; García, Juan Vicente. “El mantenimiento de los recintos fortificados en la Valencia bajomedieval. Las reparaciones del castillo de Xátiva (1410-1412)”. Acta historica et archaeologica Mediaevalia, 18 (1997):

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 521 cui cessarono le ostilità con il giudicato d’Arborea e fu sconfitta la ribellione feudale capeggiata dai

nglish marchesi di Oristano alla fine del Quattrocento, la Corona d’Aragona non ebbe più necessità di

E mantenere in piedi queste costose strutture fortificate. La grande stagione dei castelli cominciò il in suo declino e quasi tutte le piazzeforti sarde, che tanta parte avevano avuto nelle vicende politiche dell’isola, private di ogni funzione, conclusero il loro ciclo vitale avviandosi inesorabilmente ad un’irreversibile decadenza32. ubmitted Acquafredda, grazie alla sua posizione chiave nel sistema strategico difensivo del Regnum Sardi- S niae, aveva avuto sempre una funzione prettamente militare, soprattutto quando l’Arborea diede n o t il via al conflitto contro l’Aragona. Allo scoppio delle ostilità, dopo il 1350, la roccaforte seppe resistere ai numerosissimi attacchi exts

T sferrati dalle truppe arborensi e, alla fine del XIV secolo, quando gli avvenimenti volsero a favore

the del giudicato d’Arborea, rivestì ancora di più un ruolo chiave nel castelliere meridionale del re-

o f gnum, poiché riuscì a contenere i continui assalti delle soldatesche di Brancaleone Doria, impazien-

te di invadere il Cagliaritano e occupare definitivamenteCastell de Càller33. Fu, quindi, precipua preoccupazione dei sovrani aragonesi potenziare, già dalla seconda metà

riginals del Trecento, la difesa del maniero, provvedere a continui vettovagliamenti e caldeggiare le inin- O terrotte richieste di nuove riparazioni. Queste ultime furono molto frequenti nella lunga storia militare del castello e, non essendo opportuno in questa sede, per ragioni di brevità, presentare passo a passo l’elenco dei lavori effettuati nella rocca durante il XIV e l’inizio del XV secolo, ci sof- fermeremo solo a menzionare alcune delle innumerevoli istanze di intervento inoltrate alla Corte e a sottolineare la capacità di sopravvivenza dell’inespugnabile fortezza del Sigerro. Nel 1351, ad esempio, lo stesso sovrano Pietro IV sollecitava nuove e indispensabili ristrutturazioni per il miglioramento del complesso fortificato, mentre nel 1358 il castellano Dalmazzo de Jardí otteneva il rimborso per le spese sostenute in alcune opere di adeguamento, di cui aveva denunciato l’esigenza non solo per la rocca ma anche per il borgo circostante34. Dall’aprile del 1365, quando il conflitto con l’Arborea era ormai divampato, furono presi prov- vedimenti nell’imminenza degli scontri che avrebbero interessato direttamente le regioni meri- dionali del regno. Al riguardo, il governatore generale ordinò che il castello del Sigerro fosse ade- guatamente rifornito, poiché dalle relazioni del castellano risultava una grave penuria di scorte alimentari sufficienti per sostenere eventuali attacchi, nonché utensili, attrezzi e armi necessari per affrontare gli assedi e armare le macchine da guerra. Nei mesi successivi un abitante di Castell de Càller, esperto in balestre, effettuò un sopralluogo ad Acquafredda «pro recognoscendis, abtandis et reparandis ballistis dictorum castrorum et eorum viratonis impenandis»35. L’anno seguente la fortezza era già impegnata a resistere agli attacchi sferrati dalle

475-493, García, Juan Vicente “Las obras que nunca se acaban. El mantenimiento de los castillos en la Valencia me- dieval: sus protagonistas e sus materiales”. Ars longa: cuadernos de arte, 12 (2003): 7-15; Mitre, Emilio; Alvira, Martín. “Ideología y guerra en los reinos de la España Medieval”, Conquistar y defender...: 291-334. 32. Casula, Francesco Cesare. “Castelli e fortezze”, Atlante della Sardegna, Roberto Pracchi, Angela Terrosu Asole, Mario Giuseppe Riccardi, eds. Roma: Edizioni Kappa, 1980: 109-114 (table 40); Cioppi, Alessandra. “I sistemi di difesa nella Sardegna medioevale. Committenze e strategie”, Verso un atlante dei sistemi difensivi della Sardegna. Roma: Istituto Italiano dei Castelli, in corso di stampa. 33. Casula, Francesco Cesare. La Sardegna aragonese...: II, 393 e 427. 34. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 328-329 e 350. 35. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, f. 73r. Nell’agosto 1365 il balestriere Berenguer Almuzara si recò presso i castelli di Acquafredda e Gioiosaguardia per riparare le balestre e impennare i quadrelli. Si veda ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio,

522 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 truppe giudicali e le milizie di stanza nel presidio caldeggiavano continue riparazioni alle mura e 36 agli edifici . n gl is h

Fu, tuttavia, nell’ultimo decennio del Trecento che la situazione precipitò. Lasciati da parte i E in propositi di grandi spedizioni, le quali non superarono mai lo stadio progettuale, la difesa cata- lano-aragonese in Sardegna conobbe una realtà assai più contenuta, se non a volte decisamente precaria. Una difesa che, malgrado tutte le insufficienze, riuscì, comunque, nel suo obiettivo prin- cipale: mantenere la presenza iberica nell’isola. Sebbene questa presenza fosse minima e si limitas- ubm i tted S se soltanto al controllo di alcuni castelli nell’interno e di poche piazzeforti sulla costa, era in grado no t di garantire sempre e in qualsiasi modo una ripresa, non appena la situazione interna all’Aragona lo avesse consentito. e x t s

A partire dagli anni Settanta del XIV secolo le fortezze ancora possedute nel Regnum Sardiniae, T

non molte in verità e circondate da un territorio ostile che le isolava completamente, comincia- the

rono a soffrire gravi difficoltà di approvvigionamento. Le rendite locali non erano minimamente o f sufficienti a mantenere i soldati che formavano le guarnigioni e i proventi dei regni peninsulari risultavano inadeguati a causa della molteplicità di fronti aperti nel territorio continentale. Non

era facile, in verità, raccogliere finanziamenti congrui per la paga dei soldati e degli alcaldi, per la r i g in al s manutenzione dei castelli, il loro mantenimento e il loro rifornimento. O Nel 1396, ad esempio, sotto la pressante e continua minaccia degli attacchi di Brancaleone Doria, si intervenne sulle mura del castello di Acquafredda37 e si eseguirono lavori di riparazione alla cisterna d’acqua per garantirne l’efficienza a lungo termine38. L’intervento fu possibile grazie all’azione di un corriere, Anthoni Darcedi, che trasportò da Castell de Càller al castello del Sigerro il materiale utile per eseguire l’opera. Lo accompagnarono nell’impresa una scorta di cinque uomini e Anthoni Scarcello, patrono di un’imbarcazione, con la quale, partiti dalla laguna di Santa Igia, riuscirono a risalire il corso del fiume Cixerri fino a raggiungere la zona acquitrinosa di Uta, in un territorio il più possibile vicino al maniero per non rischiare imboscate da parte delle squadre fedeli al Doria39. Nel primo decennio del XV secolo, invece, quando la guerra si avviava ormai alla conclusione, furono eseguiti lavori di muratura e falegnameria. Nella primavera del 1407, il castellano Bernat de Riera dispose perfino un intervento «de gran adob», voluto fortemente anche dalla sua consorte, nel tentativo di rendere più accoglienti e confortevoli gli ambienti della vecchia fortezza40. A tale scopo lavorò per sessantasei giorni un tale Jacme de Riusech, operaio originario di Alcúdia, ma abitante a Castell de Càller, che percepì un salario di 12 lire e 12 soldi di alfonsini minuti. Lo affian-

K2, f. 82r. 36. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, ff. 101v-102r; ff. 107v-109r; ff. 130v-131r. 37. ASCa. Antico Archivio Regio, K2, ff. 130v-131. 38. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 23-23v; Cioppi, Alessandra. “I registri di Jordi de Planella, ‘batlle general’ di Sardegna. Note sull’amministrazione di un ufficiale regio alla fine del XIV secolo”,La corona catala- noaragonesa i el seu entorn mediterrani a la baixa edat mitjana, Maria Teresa Ferrer, Josefina Mutgé, Manuel Sánchez, eds. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas-Institució Milà i Fontanals, 2005: 23-63 (46-47). 39. Tali informazioni ci vengono dal primo registro contabile di Jordi de Planella. Per la spedizione Anthoni Darcedi ricevette 1 lira e 14 soldi di ricompensa e, per il trasporto dal Castell de Càller a quello di Acquafredda, Anthoni Scarcello e i suoi compagni percepirono 1 lira e 4 soldi. Si veda ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 23r-23v. 40. La castellana di Acquafredda, che secondo le disposizioni dettate da Pietro IV (Era, Antonio. L’ordinamento organico...: 72-74) risiedeva nel castello affianco al marito, è molto lontana dall’immagine dell’ideale cortese, mentre per alcuni aspetti è più simile alle figure femminili delineate da Olla Repetto, Gabriella. “La donna cagliaritana tra ‘400 e ‘600’”. Medioevo. Saggi e Rassegne, 11 (1986): 171-207.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 523 cava nell’opera un aiutante, il quale per cinquantadue giorni di lavoro ricevette un compenso di

nglish 6 lire e 10 soldi di alfonsini minuti. Quest’ultimo guadagnò anche una somma di 15 soldi per aver

E trasportato dal borgo all’interno del castello poco meno di trecento piastrelle di cotto con le quali in furono rivestiti i pavimenti di alcune stanze. Probabili imbiancature conclusero la ristrutturazione del vetusto castello, lasciando intravedere una ripresa di fiducia dei catalano-aragonesi41. ubmitted

S 3. Come difendere e approvvigionare Acquafredda n o t I dati che si possono ricavare dalla documentazione archivistica trecentesca sulla fortezza di Acquafredda —e di cui fanno parte anche le informazioni forniteci dai registri contabili del batlle exts

T general— sono di natura quasi esclusivamente amministrativa e rispecchiano solo le esigenze legate

the alla funzione e alla capacità difensiva del castello. Si tratta di fonti settoriali e indirette che rivol-

o f gono la loro attenzione prevalentemente al soldato e non all’uomo, alle armi e alle armature che

fanno parte del forniment di una fortezza —prima di e per questo chiudere proprietà della Corona, alla piccola utensileria necessaria per le riparazioni, alle scorte alimentari di base e ai magazzini

riginals per riporle. O Nonostante ciò, prendendo spunto proprio dall’analisi degli spazi e dalla descrizione degli og- getti, è possibile interpretare e reinventare l’organizzazione quotidiana e la vita dentro le mura di una piazzaforte catalano-aragonese nella Sardegna del XIV secolo. Nei periodi in cui i conflitti non coinvolgevano direttamente la rocca, apprendiamo che il ca- stellano poteva essere accompagnato dalla propria famiglia nella residenza che la carica gli impo- neva. In tale circostanza un piccolo seguito di servitori, conformemente al suo rango, affollava il maniero, animando gli ambienti e vivacizzando quell’isolamento che in alcune situazioni doveva essere opprimente. I castellani di Acquafredda, infatti, più volte lamentarono le condizioni di forte segregazione che il castello costringeva loro a sostenere, e qualcuno perse anche l’incarico pur di non risiedervi regolarmente. Fu il caso di Ramon de Ampuries, mentre il suo successore, Dalmazzo de Jardí, per ottemperare alle responsabilità delle quali era stato investito, pagò in maniera dram- matica la sua fedeltà al dovere. Nominato castellano nel 1355, dopo aver accettato l’incarico e non volendo separarsi dagli affetti, vi si trasferì portando con sé moglie e figli. Nel 1358, dopo soli tre anni, chiese al sovrano il permesso di lasciare un sostituto nella fortezza per potersi recare almeno sei mesi l’anno a Castell de Càller, dal momento che sia lui sia la moglie si trovavano in gravi condi- zioni di salute e due dei loro figli erano morti a causa delle pessime condizioni igieniche. Il sovrano Pietro IV accettò la richiesta del fedele servitore, concedendogli di stemperare la durezza della vita nel castello con brevi soggiorni in città42. Nel complesso, comunque, la fortezza di Acquafredda dovette essere ben organizzata e sicura; viverci non era forse sempre piacevole, ma la vocazione militare non impediva ai suoi abitanti di dedicarsi, seppure marginalmente, ad altre attività che potevano essere praticate, soprattutto, quando non vi erano particolari minacce militari. All’interno della roccaforte, infatti, si giocava e si praticava l’esercizio della caccia; si eseguivano piccoli lavori di manutenzione; si pulivano e controllavano le armi e le armature; si ordinavano i

41. ASCa. Antico Archivo Regio K3, ff. 22r-22v; Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua...”: 446. 42. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 284-285; 350.

524 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 magazzini e gli attrezzi. Ci si occupava anche di immagazzinare le scorte di vettovaglie non deperi- 43 bili . Si impastava e si cuoceva il pane. n gl is h

A tale proposito, dalla lettura di un inventario dei beni del castello, consegnati al nobile Amorós E in de Ribelles, castellano di Acquafredda nell’ottobre del 1338, apprendiamo l’esistenza di due mu- lini, uno dei quali si azionava con la forza di un mulo e l’altro grazie a un cavallo. In un secondo inventario, redatto dal castellano Ramon de Ampuries e trasmesso nel luglio 1355 al suo successo- re Dalmazzo de Jardí, oltre ai mulini già elencati ne figurano altri due, alloggiati in una stanza del ubm i tted S mastio del castello e detti dal compilatore ‘sardeschi’44. A questi si aggiungevano due macine, una no t sola delle quali completa e funzionante45. Un dettaglio che colpisce negli inventari è certamente la differenza, sottolineata dai castellani, tra i diversi tipi di mulini presenti nel castello. La menzione e x t s dell’aggettivo ‘sardesco’ indica l’esistenza di una macchina particolare e, probabilmente, dalle di- T

mensioni piuttosto contenute dal momento che poteva essere collocata all’interno di una stanza. the

Forse si trattava di un’antica mola granaria come quelle in uso nell’isola fin dai tempi dei romani, o f costituite da pochi elementi di pietra azionati dal vigore di un asino e rimaste immutate nei secoli sino ai giorni nostri, quali le mole tuttora visibili nei cortili delle case contadine46.

La presenza della castellana, quando ciò era possibile, rendeva sicuramente più confortevole r i g in al s la vita all’interno del maniero. Nonostante fosse in grado di sovraintendere a diverse mansioni, il O suo ruolo principale era quello di dedicarsi alle attività tipicamente femminili. Le diverse canes di tela che arrivavano ad Acquafredda, ad esempio, cucite e ricamate con la collaborazione di qualche serventa del borgo, erano confezionate per realizzare tovaglie e indumenti di semplice fattura, così come era in uso nei coevi castelli europei47. La castellana, inoltre, seguiva le operazioni di salagione delle carni e dei pesci, soprattutto an- guille48. A lei spettava il compito di sovraintendere alla preparazione del pane e del biscotto con cui sfamare l’intera comunità. Il grano, destinato al consumo del castello veniva macinato nei mulini collocati al suo interno, successivamente si abburattava con i garbells e, infine, con la farina ottenuta si impastavano pani e biscotti in grandi quantità, grazie alla collaborazione di tutti i ser- vents e di qualche serventa. Altri aspetti delle attività del castello sono più difficili da determinare. Non possiamo stabilire il numero delle persone che vi gravitavano intorno: certo è che attualmente conosciamo con no- tevole precisione le guarnigioni militari e il loro variare nei mesi e possiamo ipotizzare la presenza

43. ACA. Papeles para incorporar. Caja 24, ff. 1v-3r; ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 21v-22; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 29v-31r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 29r-30r. 44. Attraverso la descrizione degli oggetti elencati negli inventari del 1338 (ACA. Papeles para incorporar, n. 24, ff. 1v- 3r) e del 1355 (ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r) si ha un’idea dell’organizzazione del castello di Acquafredda e della sua comunità, condizionata da perenni esigenze d’intervento, restauro e difesa. Il testo dell’inventario del 1388 è in Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. “Il castello di Acquafredda...”: 291-299; il testo del 1355 è edito da Fois, Foiso. “Il castello di Acquafredda di Siliqua...”: 455-460. 45. ACA. Papeles para incorporar, caja 24 (1338, 15 ottobre), ff. 1r-6r; ACA, Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67. 46. Queste macchine agrarie sono state studiate e descritte da Fois, Barbara. Territorio e paesaggio agrario nella Sardegna medioevale. Pisa: ETS, 1990: 115-121. 47. ASCa. Antico Achivio Real, K3, ff. 22-22v; ff. 25r-25v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2092, f. 124v; Power, Eileen. Donne nel Medioevo, Michael Moissey, ed., Sciana Loaldi Contri, trad. Milano: Jaca Book, 1999: 54-55; Duby, George; Perrot, Michélle. “Il modello cortese”, Storia delle donne. 2. Il Medioevo, Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, ed., Liliana Lanzarini, trad. Roma-Bari: Laterza, 1990: 310-329. 48. Manca, Ciro. Aspetti dell’espansione economica catalano-aragonese nel Mediterraneo occidentale. Il commercio del sale. Milano: Giuffrè Editore, 1965: 33-46 (35).

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 525 di un consistente numero di uomini che si occupava dell’attività agricola nel borgo e nel castello e 49 nglish della successiva commercializzazione dei loro prodotti .

E Quando gli assedi o le incursioni impedivano il regolare apporto di alimenti freschi dalle cam- in pagne circostanti, la fortezza era rifornita ogni tre/sei mesi di vettovaglie di base, armi e utensili indispensabili alla vita quotidiana, attraverso tragitti studiati per eludere le imboscate nemiche. Molto frequentemente ci si serviva di corsi d’acqua che, grazie all’utilizzo di piccole imbarcazioni, ubmitted consentivano di giungere il più delle volte ai piedi del castello e scaricare le scorte di cibi e armi S sfuggendo alla sorveglianza delle truppe arborensi50. n o t I viaggi, quasi sempre organizzati con l’ausilio di una scorta, si realizzavano esclusivamente per mezzo di carriaggi trainati da cavalli e condotti da carradors, spesso originari dei sobborghi di exts

T Villanova e Stampace, i quali erano soliti assicurare i collegamenti tra il Castell de Càller e le sue ap- 51 the pendici ed eccezionalmente con le zone dell’entroterra cagliaritano . L’esercizio di questi trasporti

o f e il loro costo era rigorosamente disciplinato dalle leggi cittadine, nel generale interesse dei traffici

e della comunità52. Nel nostro caso, i registri del batlle attestano che per i rifornimenti al castello di Acquafredda

riginals si prediligeva il percorso fluviale mediante piccole imbarcazioni a chiglia piatta, dettexius , par- O ticolarmente indicate per questo tipo di comunicazioni con i castelli dell’interno, oppure i pane- scalm (penescalm), barche più rapide e con molti remi, usate solitamente per il trasporto di merci e passeggeri53. Il trasferimento dei viveri, costituito da rifornimenti quasi sempre provenienti dalla Catalogna, richiedeva una notevole organizzazione perché si trattava di un tragitto della durata di 9 giorni e della lunghezza di circa 50 miglia54. Il trasporto avveniva con un’articolata successione di passaggi. Le merci, collocate in bisacce e barili all’interno di carri guidati da altrettanti barrocciai, dopo aver imboccato lo stagno di Santa Gilla, risalivano il fiume Cixerri fino alla localitàSent Veneci, dalla quale per l’ultimo breve tratto proseguivano via terra fino al castello di Acquafredda, scortate da uno squadrone di oltre un centi- naio di soldati55. A quei tempi il Cixerri era un fiume facilmente navigabile per la notevole portata d’acqua, soprattutto nella parte finale del suo corso. In agro di Uta, dove sfociava anche il fiume Manno, si veniva a creare una regione estremamente acquitrinosa, che poteva essere facilmente

49. Tangheroni, Marco. La città dell’argento...: 351-352; Cioppi, Alessandra. Le strategie...: 147-158. 50. Castellaccio, Angelo. “Utilizzazione militare di alcune acque interne nella Sardegna catalano-aragonese”, La Sarde- gna nel mondo mediterraneo. 6. Per una storia dell’acqua in Sardegna, Atti del terzo Convegno internazionale di studi geografico-sto- rici (Sassari-Porto Cervo-Bono, 10-14 aprile 1985), Manlio Brigaglia, ed. Sassari: Gallizzi, 1990: 83-116. 51. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, f. 21r; reg. 2485, ff. 31r-31v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 30v-31. 52. Pinna, Michele. “Le Ordinazioni dei Consiglieri del Castello di Cagliari del secolo XIV”. Archivio Storico Sardo, 17 (1929): 2-272; Manconi, Francesco. Libro delle ordinanze dei Consellers della Città di Cagliari (1346-1603). Sassari: Fonda- zione Banco di Sardegna, 2005. 53. Simbula, Pinuccia Franca. Corsari e pirati nei mari di Sardegna. Cagliari: Istituto sui rapporti italo-iberici-CNR, 1993: 112-116. 54. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30v. 55. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 31v. Sent Veneci, detto anche Santu Venuci o Santu Inesu (San Genesio) era un villaggio in agro di Uta, oggi scomparso. Terrosu Asole, Angela. “L’insediamento umano medioevale e i centri abbandonati fra il secolo XIV e il secolo XVII”, Atlante della Sardegna, Riccardo Pracchi, Angela Terrosu, eds. Roma: Edizioni Kappa, 1974: 23 (Supplemento al fascicolo II). Sull’antico quadro insediativo nel territorio del Sigerro e sullo studio dell’ubicazione dei villaggi abbandonati: La curadoria del Sigerro. Vicende attorno al castello di Acquafredda, a cura di Giovanni Serreli, Simonetta Sitzia, Stefano Castello, Biblioteca Comunale di Siliqua. 10 Aprile 2014 .

526 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 percorsa con piccole imbarcazioni idonee al trasporto di merci a costo inferiore e con minore ri-

schio di aggressioni. Poiché il viaggio verso la fortezza del Sigerro era piuttosto lungo, i trasportatori n gl is h e la scorta impegnati nella spedizione via fiume dovevano essere ricompensati e riforniti di suffi- E in cienti scorte. In questo caso gli alimenti per il viaggio consistevano in alcuni quintars di pan biscotto conservato in sacchi; abbondante vino, aceto e olio, trasportati in barili56. Talvolta la spesa aumen- tava quando era necessario inviare pochi giorni prima alcune spie in avanscoperta con l’incarico di ispezionare il percorso e riferire gli eventuali pericoli ai componenti della spedizione in partenza57. ubm i tted S Le informazioni acquisite dai libri contabili sulla considerevole varietà di prodotti alimentari no t riforniti al castello di Acquafredda, testimoniano quanto gli approvvigionamenti fossero conformi, in termini di beni di largo consumo, all’alimentazione popolare dell’epoca58. La loro tipologia, e x t s inoltre, non cambia nel corso del triennio di amministrazione del badget straordinario da parte del T

batlle general, e non si discosta da quelle comunemente garantite per un vettovagliamento di base the

necessario alle truppe insediate in castelli o in città fortificate sotto regime d’assedio. o f

Al contrario, la varietà delle scorte, è determinata dal naturale alternarsi dei prodotti stagionali. Grano, riso, orzo e zucchero candito; legumi e formaggi; sale, aceto, olio e aglio; carne di maiale e

pesci salati, soprattutto anguille; miele, frutta secca e vino fanno parte di quelle provviste di base r i g in al s che non devono mancare mai59. Il vino è sempre il Sent Onoxet (Anuxet), vino calabrese di buona O qualità, proveniente da San Lucido, rifornito nei due tipi blanch e vermell, molto apprezzati e du- revolmente consumati60. Il volume delle riserve, invece, risulta condizionato di anno in anno dalle difficoltà di approv- vigionamento e quindi, in certi periodi, denota addirittura un’alimentazione di pura sussistenza, riflesso della crisi economica prodotta dalla guerra, dalle epidemie e dallo spopolamento. Le spese sostenute dal batlle per il pagamento dei prodotti inviati ad Acquafredda rientrano perfettamente nelle oscillazioni del mercato e nelle valutazioni economiche espresse per quegli anni61.

56. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30v. 57. Cioppi, Alessandra. “I registri...”: 43-60. 58. Ladero, Miguel Ángel. “La alimentación en la España medieval, estado de las investigaciones”. Hispania, 45 (1985): 211-220; García, Juan Vicente. “La alimentación en el Medievalismo Valenciano. Un tema marginado”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia medieval, 8 (1990-1991): 301-322; i contributi del volume miscellaneo Alimentació i societat a la Catalunya medieval. Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas-Institució Milà i Fontanals, 1988); Montanari, Massimo. L’alimentazione contadina nell’alto Medioevo. Napoli: Liguori Editore, 1979; Montanari, Massimo. Alimentazione e cultura nel medioevo. Milano: Laterza, 1988; Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti di Miquel Ça-Rovira. Padova: CEDAM, 1969: 123-130. 59. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, ff. 21v-22r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 29v-31; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, ff. 29r-30r; ACA. Papeles para incorporar, no. 24, ff. 1v-3; ACA. Cancillería, reg. 1027, ff. 65v-67r. 60. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2484, f. 21v; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, f. 29; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2092, ff. 93-96v; ff. 124r-127r; ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2093, f. 45r. 61. Quasi tutti i prodotti dell’agricoltura e dell’allevamento risentirono della crisi di produzione e di circolazione de- terminata dall’imperversare della guerra. Manca, Ciro. “Notes sobre l’administració de la Sardenya catalana en el segle XIV: l’arrendament de les rendes e drets reyals”. Estudis d’Història Medieval, 5 (1973): 73-74. Di conseguenza sul mercato di Cagliari, parallelamente al prezzo del grano, crebbero le quotazioni anche degli altri prodotti alimentari: orzo, fave, formaggio, carne salata, olio d’oliva. Diversamente si regolarono i prezzi del vino rosso e dell’aceto, la cui offerta fu so- stenuta con soddisfacente continuità, pur con una variabilità limitata, grazie alle importazioni dalla Campania —il noto vino nella varietà rossa e bianca di San Lucido— e dalla Sicilia. Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti...: tabella 32, 121 e Pinna, Michele. Le Ordinazioni dei Consiglieri: Pinna, Michele. Le Ordinazioni dei Consiglieri...: I, chap. 31-32, 24-25; 66, p. 38-39; II, chap. 27, p. 108-110; chap. 28, p. 110-112.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 527 Gli equipaggiamenti alla fortezza del Sigerro prevedevano anche una notevole quantità di pic-

nglish cola utensileria e svariati materiali d’uso comune e quotidiano di cui la rocca era sprovvista. Sac-

E chi, pelli, cuoi, fili e cera consentivano riparazioni non eccessivamente complicate; picconi, falci, in asce, scuri a doppio taglio, roncole, chiavi e chiodi in quantità erano utili per ogni tipo di lavoro ed intervento62. Completano l’elenco delle forniture le differenti tipologie di recipienti per raccogliere l’acqua, ubmitted le varie scodelle di legno per bere e i piatti per mangiare63. E ancora una mola per macinare il S grano64, setacci per spurgare il frumento65, pestelli per battere la farina e una pastera per poterla n o t impastare66. Singolare la presenza in questi rifornimenti anche di una tovaglia per la mensa e una caldera. Quest’ultima era il classico recipiente in rame dalla forma semisferica nel quale si faceva exts 67 T bollire l’acqua o si cocevano le carni in grande quantità .

the Non mancano, infine, le abbondanti dotazioni alla fortezza di armi costituite da pugnali, bale-

68 o f stre e casse cariche di passadors .

4. Conclusioni riginals

O Le notizie forniteci dai registri del batlle general ci consentono di affermare quanto sia stato ar- duo, ma assolutamente indispensabile e strategico, approvvigionare e difendere, nello scorcio del XIV secolo, i presidi superstiti catalano-aragonesi, grazie ai quali fu possibile garantire la sopravvi- venza del Regnum Sardiniae. La scelta di quest’ultimo come campo di indagine è stata determinata dalla consapevolezza di avere a disposizione non solo il materiale documentario dell’amministrazione del batlle general di Sardegna, ma di poter disporre di una grande abbondanza di fonti che, per la secolare durata della guerra di conquista e conservazione del regno isolano (1323-1420), consentono di valutare più adeguatamente la guerra statica come realtà del sistema logistico militare catalano-aragonese e di

62. Gli strumenti di lavoro citati nel registro comprendono tanto gli attrezzi d’uso individuale quanto quelli di utilizzo comune nei cantieri edili e il loro costo, in senso assoluto e relativo, risulta sicuramente modesto. al riguardo Manca, Ciro. Il libro di conti...: 76. 63. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, f. 30r e Alcover, Antoni Maria, Moll, Francesc de Borja v. Le ga- vetes erano i recipienti per l’acqua, mentre i vernigats erano le scodelle o i piatti fondi. Si veda la voce “gaveta”, Diccionari català-valencià-balear, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Palma de Mallorca: Editorial Moll, 1985: VI, 241 (10 vols.) e la voce “vernigat”, Diccionari català, valencià, balear...: X, 747. 64. Si tratta di una mola di tipo sardesco, della quale si è argomentato in precedenza, che rendeva possibile la macina- tura all’interno della fortezza del frumento rifornito (nota 45). 65. Il setaccio era detto garbell. Equivaleva ad un recipiente dal fondo di cuoio forato con piccoli buchi, in uso per sepa- rare la pula dal chicco attraverso la battitura del cereale con le palette: la voce “garbell”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català-valencià-balear...: VI, 183. 66. ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2485, ff. 30r-30v. La pastera era una sorta di piccola madia di legno sulla quale si lavorava il pane (voce “pastera”, Alcover, Antoni Maria, Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català-valenc- ià-balear...: VIII, 312-313). 67. Nel nostro caso la caldera pesa 7 libbre (2,8 Kg.). Si veda ACA. Real Patrimonio. Maestro Racional, reg. 2486, f. 30 e la voce “caldera”, Alcover, Antoni Maria; Moll, Francesc de Borja. Diccionari català-valencià-balear...: II; 849-850. 68. I passadors erano frecce per balestre che Dimitre Virater aveva acquistato a Barcellona al costo di 9 lire al migliaio, per una spesa complessiva di 23 lire e 18 soldi di alfonsini minuti. Le casse di passadors, in numero di 15, erano arrivate in Sardegna con la nave del mercante Francesch Solanis, approdata a Castell de Càller con tutti i rifornimenti della Co- rona per il Regnum Sardiniae. Sulle armi nel Medioevo basilare è l’opera di Contamine, Philippe. La guerra nel Medioevo, Tuckery Capra, trad. Bologna: Il Mulino, 1986: 247-252 e per l’area iberica Riquer, Martín de. L’arnès del cavaller. Armes y armadures catalanes medievales. Barcelona: Edicions Ariel, 1968; Cirlot, Victoria. El armamento catalán de los siglos XI al XIV. Barcelona: (tesis doctoral), 1980: 266-401 (tesis dirigida por Martín de Riquer) e le preziose riproduzioni delle armi.

528 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 ritenerla una tecnica e uno strumento di difesa altrettanto valido ed equiparabile alle impegnative

imprese campali e alla pratica della guerra di corsa. n gl is h

L’analisi circostanziata dei dati registrati nei libri contabili della batllia general di Sardegna ci ha E in permesso anche di ricostruire l’organizzazione della guerra statica e le tecniche adottate nel regno sardo; abbiamo potuto analizzare la gestione amministrativa del capitale per essa investito e i suoi investitori; si è compresa, non da ultimo, l’incidenza che tale strategia ha avuto sulle vicende mi- litari dell’isola. ubm i tted S Certamente, il ruolo di primo piano è stato assunto dalle vicende storiche di alcune fortezze, le no t quali, passato il tempo delle necessità, da protagoniste degli eventi si sono ritrovate a concludere con fatica la loro esistenza. e x t s

Questa sorte è toccata anche al castello di Acquafredda, i cui feudatari in periodo di pace prefe- T

rirono le comodità dei centri urbani alla dura e solitaria vita della rocca. Gli alti costi di manuten- the

zione ebbero una grande responsabilità, ma uniti all’isolamento e alla posizione non agevole ne o f segnarono inesorabilmente l’abbandono, lasciando il castello all’inclemente erosione del tempo. r i g in al s O

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 515-529. ISSN 1888-3931 529 PAISAJES SONOROS MEDIEVALES

nglish EN LOS NUEVOS MEDIOS DE OCIO DIGITAL E in

Juan Francisco Jiménez Alcázar y Gerardo Rodríguez Universidad de Murcia y Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata- ubmitted Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones científicas y técnicas S n o t exts

T Resumen the

o f Los videojuegos se han convertido en un referente cultural muy importante en nuestra socie-

dad, sobre todo entre las generaciones más jóvenes. La música, sonidos y ruidos de efectos que aparecen en ellos son ejemplos de la iconografía general que tenemos del pasado, en este caso del

riginals medieval. El estudio plantea una aproximación a este fenómeno que representa uno de los mejores O ejemplos para analizar la idea de lo que pensamos que fue la Edad Media, y en concreto, sobre su paisaje sonoro.

1. Definición de paisaje sonoro

El concepto de paisaje sonoro (soundscape)1 fue acuñado por el compositor e investigador ca- nadiense Raymond Murray Schafer2 para hacer referencia al estudio del ambiente natural de un lugar real determinado, abarcando el análisis de todos los sonidos generados por las fuerzas de la naturaleza, los animales y los seres humanos, relacionados éstos íntimamente con el individuo y su entorno cultural. Los paisajes sonoros se encuentran, pues, en constante evolución, de acuerdo a cómo cambia el medio. Por ello se puede afirmar que poseen historicidad, ya que van de la mano del devenir de un conjunto social. Todo registro del paisaje sonoro (una descripción escrita, una representación pictórica o escultórica, una grabación...) se puede considerar como un documento histórico sonoro en cuanto se delimitan las características temporales del mismo. Con la referencia puesta en estos registros, en esta documentación sonora, Jordi Pigem3 propone “escuchar las voces del mundo, dado que hemos creído que él era sordo y mudo”. Por lo tanto, pretendemos analizar los paradig- mas de esos sonidos para esbozar la percepción que tenemos hoy de lo que pudo ser entonces, de cómo se percibía aquel contexto auditivo al que nos referimos. No hay tecnología para recuperar esos testimonios ni forma de escucharlos hoy, por lo tanto, al no conservarse registros, las reflexio- nes que planteamos en este estudio están dirigidas hacia hipótesis de planteamiento sobre cuál es

1. Este trabajo se enmarca en el proyecto de investigación: Historia y videojuegos. El impacto de los nuevos medios de ocio en el conocimiento del pasado medieval (HAR2011-25548), financiado por el Ministerio de Economía y Competitividad del Gobierno de España, y en el de Paisajes sensoriales, sonidos y silencios de la Edad Media (HUM 396/12, cód. 15/F-456), financiado por la Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata (Argentina). 2. Schafer, Raymon M. The Tuning of the World. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1977. 3. Jordi Pigem. “Escuchar las voces del mundo”, Observatori del Paisatje. Dossier “Paisajes sonoros”, 2009. 1 junio 2014 .

530 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 la veracidad de la imagen colectiva sonora que poseemos del Medievo; en último término, qué

consideramos que es música o sonidos medievales, por cuanto está claro que si aludimos a música n gl is h medieval, buena parte de la población podría contestar identificando determinado tipo de melodía E in o ruido con un contexto típicamente medieval4. Esta cuestión, analizada en su aspecto más global desde la particularidad del ámbito del videojuego, se configura como el objetivo prioritario en este artículo. Uno de los actuales desafíos consiste en determinar y analizar el ambiente sonoro de los distin- ubm i tted S tos ámbitos medievales, por ejemplo, los habitantes de una ciudad de la Baja Edad Media castella- no t na, conocer los sonidos que debieron haber escuchado y producido, entendiendo por sonido desde la música hasta el ruido. Cada calle, barrio o ciudad, tendría su propia sonoridad que, además, e x t s cambiaba a cada instante. Estos sonidos representan un espacio pleno de actividad y de movi- T

miento: así como los sonidos de la naturaleza informan de los fenómenos que acontecen en esta, the

los producidos por los hombres informan de su presencia y de sus correspondientes actividades. o f

Las manifestaciones sonoras de un grupo humano son más un reflejo de una experiencia social que una actividad musical en sí. Ese icono sonoro es sobre el que centramos nuestra atención, por

cuanto una imagen es junto a un sonido el aspecto más representativo de lo que representa un r i g in al s recuerdo, y lo configura en su sentido más general como un sentimiento percibido, un perfil parti- O cular o colectivo. Es un objetivo de reflexionar acerca del aserto de Clara Cortázar: “Querámoslo o no, somos medievales en nuestra música como lo somos en nuestras lenguas”5. Descartamos el tratamiento de los videojuegos estrictamente musicales, con los que se puede interpretar o acompañar piezas de música específicas o de canto6, caso de Wii Music, los de Guitar Hero, Sing Star... Tampoco los de baile, caso de los diversos Just Dance (Ubisoft) o de los de Dance Central (Harmonix). No es objeto de este artículo mencionar cualquier manifestación de música o sonido en los videojuegos, sino que, insistimos, el reflejo sensorial que el usuario percibe mientras utiliza y juega a los títulos vinculados a guiones de época medieval, tanto si son historicistas como lo son legendarios.

2. Definición y alcances de los videojuegos históricos

El videojuego es un tipo de entretenimiento electrónico que se configura con base en progra- mas informáticos de aplicación multimedia. La definición referida en la Wikipedia es que se trata de “un juego electrónico en el que una o más personas interactúan, por medio de un controlador, con un dispositivo dotado de imágenes de vídeo”7, preferida por nosotros a la que ofrece la Real

4. Existe una enorme cantidad de literatura sobre la música medieval, desde monografías concretas (Hoppin, Richard H. La música medieval. Madrid: Akal, 1991; Caldwell, John. La música medieval. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1991) hasta estudios recientes puntuales sobre cualquier tema específico (Tello, Arturo. “Sobre el amor y el fervor. Música, piedad y corte en los reinos hispanos medievales”. Anales de Historia del Arte, 23 (2013): 369-386; Mussons, Anna Maria “Antes y después de Muret: cantos y silencios”. La encrucijada de Muret. ¿Una nueva definición para Europa y el Mediterráneo?. Madrid: Sociedad Española de Estudios Medievales, 2014: 94-136). No obstante, queremos aludir a la muy interesante apor- tación de Clara Cortázar: Cortázar, Clara. “La música medieval. Iniciadora de la música moderna”. Teología, 72 (1998): 30-45, por la sencillez de la exposición y lo conveniente para la iniciación al tema. 5. Cortázar, Clara. “La música medieval”...: 43. 6. Sobre este grupo, es muy recomendable la página de Wikipedia. “Music videogame”. Wikipedia. 1st June 2014 . 7. “Videojuego”. Wikipedia. 1 junio 2014 .

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 531 Academia de la Lengua Española, mucho menos actualizada8. En ambos casos, se limita al campo 9 nglish técnico el alcance del medio, pues se trata de un recurso cultural aceptado . Pero en ningún mo-

E mento sale a colación uno de los elementos fundamentales que confieren al videojuego un carácter in de producto cultural completo y pleno, pues si se prima la imagen, el sonido se convierte en un sustrato clave para el logro formal del medio. Dado que combina la multiplicación de estímulos sensoriales con la participación activa del usuario, es más bien considerado como un multimedia ubmitted interactivo. A partir de allí, la comunicación se establece mediante los diversos recursos visuales y S sonoros que, actuando principalmente de forma integrada, estimulan la percepción multisensorial n o t y el diálogo constante entre el individuo y el sistema operativo, o entre individuos a través de me- dios tecnológicos, en este caso digitales. exts 10 T En otros lugares se ha pretendido subrayar la función lúdica de los videojuegos en el ámbito

the de la disciplina histórica y se ha considerado que la adaptación de los mismos como recurso peda-

o f gógico es posible, en particular los videojuegos de contenidos y guion histórico, en función de las

particularidades que presentan, relacionadas con el abordaje del tiempo y las reconstrucciones de época. Señalamos que resulta fundamental en este tipo de juegos:

riginals -- El tratamiento del factor “tiempo”. O -- Las historias que se entrecruzan en los videojuegos, entre sí y con las vivencias, experiencias, historias personales... -- La relaciones entre historia, leyenda, veracidad y verosimilitud. -- La iconografía como base de comunicación histórica. En los últimos desarrollos para videojuegos, la historicidad de muchos de sus componentes ha sido una característica saliente, tanto en lo referido a la reconstrucción de las ciudades, los com- bates, las armas y vestimentas, ayudado todo este proceso por los avances espectaculares de la tecnología digital. En fin, que se lograron avances significativos en las precisiones y en los detalles con el objetivo de mostrar escenarios verosímiles para lograr un efecto simulación cada vez mayor. La interfaz visual se muestra como algo específico que busca atrapar al usuario de forma que la ex-

8. Videojuego: “Dispositivo electrónico que permite, mediante mandos apropiados, simular juegos en las pantallas de un televisor o de un ordenador”. Real Academia Española de la Lengua. 1 junio 2014 . 9. Aranda, Daniel; Sánchez, Jordi. “Algunas claves para entender los videojuegos”, Aprovecha el tiempo y juega. Algunas claves para entender los videojuegos, Daniel Aranda, Jordi Sánchez, eds. Barcelona: Universitat Oberta de Catalunya, 2009: 8. En las primeras páginas del libro de Pilar Lacasa encontramos una interesante tabla contrastiva sobre las diversas interpretaciones lo que es un videojuego por parte de diversos autores, tomando como referencia las palabras de Hui- zinga (Homo ludens) acerca de lo que es un juego en sí, Lacasa, Pilar. Los videojuegos. Aprender en mundos reales y virtuales. Madrid: Morata, 2011: 20-25. 10. Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “Videogames and Middle Ages”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 3 (2009): 311-365; Ji- ménez, Juan Francisco. “El reto de las tecnologías de la información y comunicación en Humanidades. Medievalismo, medievalistas y el ordenador”, El estudiante en el sistema ECTS. Innovaciones docentes para clases teóricas y prácticas. Granada: Ed. Copicentro, 2010: 95-112; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “Cruzadas, cruzados y videojuegos”. Anales de la Universidad de Alicante. Historia Medieval, 17 (2011): 363-407; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “El otro pasado posible: la simulación del Medievo en los videojuegos”. Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, 5 (2011): 491-517; Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “El arte de la guerra medieval: combates digitales y experiencias de juego”. Revista Eletrônica sobre Antiguidade e Medievo Roda da Fortu- na, 1/1 (2014): 516-546; Jiménez, Juan Francisco; Rodríguez, Gerardo F. “La visión del musulmán en los videojuegos de contenido histórico”, IX Estudios de Frontera. Economía, Derecho y sociedad en la Frontera. Jaén: Diputación Provincial, 2014: 317-336. Jiménez, Juan Francisco, Rodriguez, Gerard Fabian, “Sexualidades jugadas. El sexo en los videojuegos históricos”, I Jornadas Interdisciplinarias sobre Estudios de Género y Estudios Visuales. (Mar del Plata: Universidad Nacional de Mar del Plata, 2014) Historia y videojuegos. El impacto de los nuevos medios de ocio sobre el conocimiento del pasado medieval. 1 de junio de 2014 . Y Jiménez, Juan Francisco; Mugueta, Iñigo. “Estudiar la Edad Media desde el presente: un taller didáctico en aulas de ESO con videojuegos”, Actas del II Con- greso Internacional de Videojuegos y Educación, Francisco Revuelta, María Rosa Fernández, María Inmaculada Pedrera, Jesús Valverde, coords. Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura, 2014: 273-276.

532 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 periencia de juego sea la meta en sí del producto. Las melodías avanzaron en un sentido paralelo,

pero más bien hacia un grado de calidad musical y técnica. n gl is h

Ese paisaje sonoro que acompaña estos videojuegos no avanzó pues en esta misma dirección E in historicista; más bien ofrece una reconstrucción que se encuentra más en función de los intereses del juego y de lo que el diseñador desea utilizar, en función muchas veces de lo que espera que el jugador quiere oír, que de la recreación histórica. En una conferencia impartida por el desarro- llador de Noguera Games11 durante la Murcia Game Party (abril de 2014)12, mostró un juego en la ubm i tted S fase inicial de diseño, Quest, cuyo argumento era de “ámbito medieval” (sic); preguntado sobre la no t utilización de la música final, aludió a que se usaría una melodía “medieval”. Todos los presentes atendieron a la afirmación con un grado absoluto de comprensión, ya que “entendían” lo que sig- e x t s nificaba el concepto de “música medieval”. Otra cosa es lo que es realmente, y de esa cuestión, y T

de algunas otras, profundizamos en este estudio. the

o f

3. Música y sonidos

13 Edgardo Rudnitzky afirma que podemos dejar de ver cuando dejamos de mirar pero no pode- r i g in al s mos dejar de escuchar cuando dejamos de oír, dado que no hay párpados para los oídos. O En este sentido, el sonido resulta omnipresente, está siempre en nuestro entorno, nunca es un asunto privado. Tiene un punto de procedencia pero múltiples puntos de escucha (destinatarios). El sonido es en el espacio, nos permite percibir esa área en su totalidad sin importar hacia donde miremos. Es el agente a través del cual se comprende el lenguaje hablado y se absorbe la música. El sonido es presencia y tiene la cualidad ambivalente de tener una inmensa capacidad referencial a cuestiones ajenas a él cuando es señal o lenguaje, y de absoluta abstracción cuando es sonido puro, sin significante lingüístico, estímulo en sí mismo. Estos asertos, que pueden parecer metateóricos en su planteamiento, en realidad son parte intrínseca del éxito del producto “videojuego”. Se pue- de argumentar que se puede jugar sin sonidos, sin música... cierto, pero se elimina la “experiencia completa de juego”, esa vivencia que define al medio. De hecho, ya existen melodías que se iden- tifican plenamente con algunos títulos, baste recordarMy Patch, de Jim Noir, para Little Big Planet (Media Molecule-Sony, 2008), e incluso se publican bandas sonoras para su comercialización, caso de Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (Activision, 2010) o Medal of Honor (diversos títulos de la saga, co- mercializados por EA Recordings), o insertas como complemento en las ediciones de coleccionista, caso de Total War, Anno 1404, Age of Empires, Los niños del Nilo o Los Sims Medieval (ilustración 1). Incluso se ha comercializado, una colección de bandas sonoras de videojuegos interpretadas por la London Philarmonic Orchestra14. De ahí que cada vez más, las empresas desarrolladoras dediquen mayores inversiones a las bandas sonoras de los títulos que podemos calificar como “superproducciones”. No es extraño en- contrar a grandes maestros conocidos compositores de bandas sonoras para el cine involucrados en

11. Bad Juju Games, Inc.-Noguera Juegos. Desura. 13 enero 2015. . 12. Game Party Entertainment. Murcia Game Party. 13 junio 2014. . 13. Edgardo Rudnitzky (1956) es compositor y artista sonoro argentino, cuyo trabajo se ha vinculado con la música contemporánea y el sonido ligado a prácticas performáticas. Vive en Berlín y exhibió en Fundación Proa en los años 2012-2013 Nocturno. Instalación sonora para 15 monocordios. Sus consideraciones fueron recogidas en la entrevista realiza- da por Ezequiel Alemián en: “No hay párpados para los oídos”. Ñ. Revista de Cultura, 497 (06/04/2013): 36. 14. London Philharmonic Orchestra. The Greatest videogames music. New York: X5 Music, 2011.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 533 productos específicos para videojuegos. Un buen ejemplo es Hans Zimmer; autor de las melodías

nglish de Rain man (Barry Levinson, 1988), Paseando a Miss Daisy (Bruce Beresford, 1989), Thelma y Louise

E (Ridley Scott, 1991), El rey León (Rob Minkoff-Roger Allers, 1994), Marea Roja (Tony Scott, 1995), in La delgada línea roja (Terrence Malick, 1998), Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000), Black Hawk Down (La caída del halcón negro en Iberoamérica, también de Ridley Scott, 2001), Pearl Harbor (Michael Bay, 2001), El último samurái (Edward Zwick, 2003), El caballero oscuro (en Iberoamérica Batman: el Ca- ubmitted ballero de la Noche, Christopher Nolan, 2008), Origen (también de Christopher Nolan, 2010), 12 S años de esclavitud (Steve McQuenn, 2013) o la de la serie The Pacific (HBO)15, el afamado músico n o t alemán también se puede anotar en su currículo la banda sonora de Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (Activision, 2010)16, o Crysis 2 (EA, 2011). No menos conocido es el de Steve Jablonsky, autor de exts

T la música de Gears of War 2 (Epic Games, 2008) o The Sims 3 (EA, 2009), pero que ha plasmado su

the creatividad en películas como Transformers (Paramount Pictures, 2007) o El juego de Ender (Chartoff

o f Productions y otras, 2013).

Una vez hemos planteado que el factor sonido en el videojuego es fundamental, llegamos al punto de cuestionar el modo en que se manifiesta en el medio, a la vez de preguntarse si es posible

riginals reconocer, diferenciar música y melodía en un videojuego. O Para Josep Martí i Pérez17, la cuestión del significado de la música va más allá de una instancia puramente denotativa de los conceptos musicales; tiene que ver con las asociaciones de ideas ex- ternas al código musical que se le son otorgadas socialmente. Desde que estas asociaciones están íntimamente relacionadas con los sistemas de creencias y valores de una cierta área sociocultural, estas incorporan criterios selectivos estableciendo un nexo de identidad entre la música y una ca- tegoría cognitiva de orden social. Naturalmente, esta proposición sugiere que el contenido signifi- cativo de la música surge a partir de una relación entre la estructura interna de esta y un concepto externo basado en la experiencia social. Algunos ejemplos citados por el autor catalán son las asociaciones del canto gregoriano con la religión (o con la Iglesia Católica más concretamente); del rock y del heavy con el sentido de juventud, innovación, rebelión, inconformismo, e independen- cia; la ópera y la música clásica en general con la elite intelectual y económica. En este sentido, el empleo de un sonido específico que desea ser escuchado mientras se juega, está en función de lo que el desarrollador emplea con el fin de satisfacer plenamente la demanda del usuario, con el fin, además de lograr un producto armónico que alcance una calidad mínima exigida para su acogida, en el mercado. No obstante, existen determinados factores que recurren a lazos argumentales para utilizar músicas específicas. Es el caso de la Obertura del videojuegoHalo (Bungie Studios y Gear- box Software), una composición que podemos calificar plenamente como canto coral gregoriano, por la conexión que tiene el personaje principal, el Masterchief, como el Guerrero 117 (San Juan, Apocalipsis, 1, 17). La narrativa en el ámbito del videojuego no es exclusiva de la imagen o del guion

15. Asociado en diversas ocasiones con el compositor Nick Glennie-Smith (Cuando éramos soldados, título en España, Fuimos soldados, en Argentina, Paramount Pictures, 2002), trabajó al amparo de la compañía Media Ventures, que a su vez derivó en la Remote Control Productions. El fruto más conocido de esa colaboración fue la banda sonora de La Roca (Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer Films, 1996). 16. Tenemos un artículo sobre el particular de Raúl Álvarez. “Bandas sonoras de tus videojuegos: el estruendo de Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2”. Xombit Games. 1 Junio 2014 . 17. Martí, Josep. “La idea de ‘relevancia social’ aplicada al estudio del fenómeno musical”. Trans: Revista Transcultural de Música, 1 (1995). Como el autor no esclarece lo que quiere decir con la expresión “categorías cognitivas”, entendemos que son clases de conceptos generales que se establecen a partir del conocimiento racional del hombre sobre su realidad. 1 de junio de 2014 .

534 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 escrito; la música se convierte así en compañera inseparable de los destinos de la experiencia de

juego. n gl is h

Retomemos la cuestión del significado musical. Steven Feld18 propone que el “objeto musical”, E in entendido como una “entidad simbólica”, contiene “tensiones interpretativas” que sólo pueden ser solucionadas cuando las impresiones auditivas son transformadas en conceptos. Considera la “ex- periencia social”, más que los factores psicológicos, como “estructuras que amoldan las sensaciones perceptivas en realidades conceptuales” musicales y extramusicales; se refiere, de esta manera, a ubm i tted S los “esquemas de tipificación” compartidos socialmente a través de los cuales se da la aprehensión no t de los símbolos. En síntesis, lo que propone Feld es que el proceso comunicativo del significado y de la interpretación musical toma como bases, por un lado, la dialéctica del objeto/evento sonoro e x t s en cuánto simultaneidad de una realidad musical (estructura) y extramusical (su colocación en T

el tiempo y espacio histórico); y, por otro, los “movimientos interpretativos” que a través de sus the

variantes de “localización”, “categorización”, “asociación”, “reflexión” y “evaluación” transforman o f la experiencia auditiva en una práctica basada en la selección y yuxtaposición de conocimientos profundos y superficiales. Más que fijar significados, explica el autor, estos movimientos buscan

enfocar “fronteras” de significación en los ajustes y cambios de los modelos de atención en el mo- r i g in al s mento de la experiencia auditiva. A este procedimiento lo denomina “enmarcación”, e involucra O simultáneamente el reconocimiento de generalidades y especificidades, formas y referencias. De este modo, lo que pretende enfatizar el autor es que “las características significantes de la comu- nicación musical no son aquellas intransferibles e irreductibles al modo verbal, sino aquellas cuya generalidad y multiplicidad de los mensajes e interpretaciones posibles provoca un tipo especial de actividad afectiva y un envolvimiento por parte del oyente”. Quedémonos con este último factor, el de envolvimiento, pues la música y el sonido global de un videojuego busca precisamente generar un ambiente, un contexto de experiencia particular o compartida, que identifique al usuario con lo que está jugando, bien sea una trinchera de la I Guerra Mundial, por ejemplo en el videojuego Verdún, o envuelto en la batalla de Muret, en Medieval Warfare (1c Company-FX). Es habitual que los desarrolladores utilicen sonidos específicos que sirvan para “ubicar” temporalmente al jugador, pues es uno de los objetivos del juego: hacer “verosímil” el escenario. Incluso para contextos apo- calípticos de determinados títulos, caso de Fallout 3 (Bethesda Game Studios), el sentido de la mú- sica que se puede escuchar (y adquirir como álbum en iTunes), retrae a la década de los 50 del siglo XX (piezas de Roy Brown, Billie Holiday, Billy Munn, Cole Porter...), pues el guion especifica que tras la catástrofe nuclear acaecida en un futuro, los avances culturales y de civilización occidental se habían estancado. Y aquí es donde, además de la melodía, es fundamental el elemento “sonidos especiales”, o “ruidos”, para conseguir la involucración del gamer o el incremento en la sensación simulada como experiencia de juego. Blandir una espada significa esperar oír el estridente sonido metálico en el golpeo o el silbante corte en el aire. Una cuestión paralela en el ámbito de lo que se puede escuchar en un videojuego es el de las voces. En el caso del citado Fallout 3 y en su versión original, oímos a Liam Neeson doblando al padre del protagonista, a Ron Perlman como el speaker de la trama o Malcolm MacDowell como el presidente de Enclave. Este ejemplo nos sirve para aludir a la importancia de los doblajes en los videojuegos, algo que ayuda, sin duda alguna, a esa involucración del jugador en el ámbito interno del juego. Escuchar la voz de Ramón Langa en The Abbey (Alcachofa Soft), juego inspirado en El

18. Steven, Feld. “Communication, music, and speech about Music”. Yearbook for Traditional Music, 16 (1984): 303-317.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 535 nombre de la Rosa, contribuye a asociar trama y calidad narrativa, en esa retroalimentación perma-

nglish nente entre cine y videojuegos, ya asumida desde que grandes estudios han fagocitado o promocio-

E nado empresas de desarrollo de ocio digital, iniciado el proceso en 1976 tras la absorción de Atari in por Warner Bros, y cuyo último ejemplo podemos citar a Lucas Arts por Disney19. No conservamos sonidos originales del Medievo, por lo que nada mejor que una voz grave o reconocida para ubicar la “mente” del jugador en el contexto que desea re-crear, o al menos simular. ubmitted S 3.1. Música n o t

Por definición, la música de videojuegos es cualquier tipo de música que aparezca en un exts

T videojuego; principalmente, música de fondo y algunos efectos de sonido. En sus orígenes, tenía un

the estilo propio caracterizado por la abundancia de bucles y la simplicidad de la melodía, realizada con

o f sonidos sintetizados. Hoy en día la frontera entre música de videojuegos y música de películas se

encuentra difusa por razón de la propia interacción y comunicación entre ambos medios, además de carácter bidireccional. 20 riginals Según Francisco Javier Pérez Quevedo , la música de videojuegos debe enriquecer la expe- O riencia del jugador siendo adaptable, dinámica, informativa e inmersiva. Debe: 1. Acompañar al jugador a lo largo de la partida, de allí que sea generalmente música instrumental. 2. Ambientar, promoviendo el entretenimiento y la inmersión en el juego. 3. Inquietar, crear tensión y expectativa. 4. Situar al jugar en la acción, generando diferentes clímax. 5. Lograr la resolución, permitiendo que el jugador se relaje, una vez que se ha logrado el objetivo. En este sentido, y para el objetivo que nos hemos marcado, es particularmente importante el se- gundo factor, por cuanto la utilización de una melodía específica que sugiera al usuario un escena- rio específico desenvuelto en un contextomedieval , se convierte en uno de los elementos cruciales para el desarrollo del juego. Pero no en un estadio final, el que plantea la experiencia de juego, sino en el primer momento, cuando el diseñador piensa en ambientar el videojuego utilizando todos los recursos a su alcance. Si la infografía y la renderización, y en general todo el aparato gráfico usado, se configuran como características visuales claras —solo basta saber el gran esfuerzo económico de Ubisoft para recrear digitalmente el Gran Zoco de Constantinopla, en Assassin’s Creed. Revelations (Ubisoft, 2011)—, la música es la que sin dejarnos de la mano en ningún momento nos ubica en un contexto espacial concreto. Manuel Gértrudix Barrio21 considera que la música constituye un recurso dramático de la na- rración dada la plasticidad de su lenguaje, la versatilidad de sus recursos y la potencialidad de su

19. Levis, Diego. Los videojuegos, un fenómeno de masas. Qué impacto produce sobre la infancia y la juventud la industria más próspera del sistema audiovisual. Barcelona: Paidós, 1997: 101 y siguientes. 20. Las apreciaciones de Francisco Javier Pérez Quevedo fueron realizadas en el curso “Animación y videojuegos” dictado por Alberto Prieto y José Luis Bernier, Centro Mediterráneo de la Universidad de Granada, Granada, 23 al 27 de julio de 2012. 1 de junio de 2014 . 21. Gértrudix, Manuel. Música y narración en los medios audiovisuales. Madrid: Laberinto, 2003; Gértrudix, Manuel. “La música en el relato audiovisual y multimedia: aplicaciones y funciones narrativas”, Narrativa audiovisual: televisiva, fílmi- ca, radiofónica, hipermedia y publicitaria, Francisco García, ed. Madrid: Laberinto, 2006: 209-224.

536 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 discurso que hacen de ella un componente esencial en el relato audiovisual. Reconoce diferentes

funciones en la música de los videojuegos, a las que clasifica de la siguiente manera: n gl is h

Funciones narrativas, vinculadas con los personajes: E in 1. referencialidad 2. caracterización 3. focalización Funciones relacionadas con la acción: ubm i tted S 1. comentario no t 2. subrayado 3. ambientación e x t s

4. especificación T

Funciones relacionadas con el tiempo, que se refieren tanto a la sustancialidad del tiempo como the

a introducir matices: o f

1. transitiva: une las diferentes recuentas temporales 2. constitutiva: impulsa a la imagen

3. indicativa: expresa valores argumental r i g in al s 4. topográfica: valor nominal del tiempo O 5. hagiográfica: influye en el tiempo de lectura Funciones relacionadas con el espacio, que modula y modela el espacio, pues sustituye al so- nido real: 1. focalizadora 2. pragmática 3. formante 4. expresiva / emotiva Desde las diversas perspectivas ofrecidas, la música empleada en los videojuegos de contenido histórico, y más concretamente en los de ambientación medieval, tanto si se trata de los de ma- yor esbozo historicista como si es de los que reflejan mundos oníricos WoW— , la saga The Elder Scrolls...— o míticos —El señor de los Anillos: la Guerra del Norte, Beowulf, El Rey Arturo...—, tiene el objeto de plantear al usuario un contexto sensorial muy reconocible, sin buscar sorpresa ni rigor histórico. Se emplea lo que el gamer espera escuchar, algo que le suena a medieval por encima de cualquier melodía que pudiera acompañar al juego en mejor medida. Casos específicos de banda sonora identitaria para el juego en concreto los tenemos, aunque seguramente es Zelda el más conocido. Pero para este logro, ser capaz de discernir una música con matices o formada por notas no me- tálicas propias de los primeros videojuegos, la tecnología ha dado un salto espectacular en los últi- mos años. El mero hecho de que los soportes físicos lo permitan, y que el conjunto del videojuego lo requiera, es habitual que el aparato de sonido de un título sea parte fundamental del desarrollo del mismo. Un apunte específico es que, normalmente, entre las opciones de juego se encuentra el de poder regular el volumen de la música y también de los efectos sonoros. Esto deriva en la experiencia de juego posible en cada momento: preferencias personales, lugar donde se juega y la hora a la que se juega. Efectivamente, el desarrollo de la música de los videojuegos está estrechamente ligado al avance tecnológico. Entre 1970 y 2010 estos cambios podrían resumirse de la siguiente manera: 1. Tecnología: se pasa del sonido monocanal al sonido envolvente.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 537 2. Técnicas musicales: de los bucles monódicos a las grandes orquestas.

nglish 3. Estilos musicales: de las canciones adaptadas a la banda sonora.

E 4. Funcionalidad: de la extradiégesis o metadiégesis, a la diégesis narrativa. in A finales de los años noventa, y en progresión paralela a los desarrollos tecnológicos, la música adquiere una importancia equiparable a la imagen, de allí la importancia de la música, que adquie- re características cinematográficas y la comercialización de las bandas sonoras, tal y como hemos ubmitted mencionado con anterioridad. Es en este punto donde hay que insistir. Las limitaciones que tenía S el medio dieron un salto cualitativo al poder usar música pregrabada en los soportes (CD sobre n o t todo)22, y es a partir de este punto cuando surge el potencial al que nos referimos. Cierto es que el avance fue paulatino pero sin pausa, alterado por saltos concretos como la adopción del estándar. exts

T MOD a raíz del uso de Sound Tracker, un software libre, en 1987. Si acaso, hemos de puntualizar

the la importancia capital que para esta cuestión, como para el apartado gráfico, tiene el apartado

o f tecnológico y sus correspondientes avances. Los diversos empleos de músicas secuenciadas o el

sonido muestreado tenían su reflejo paralelo en las restricciones que tenían los precios de las máquinas donde se jugaba o incluso del sistema de reproducción utilizado, como el NSTC o PAL.

riginals Como hemos insistido, el cambio profundo se produjo cuando se popularizó el CD como soporte, O ya que permitía escuchar voces, sonidos y música no distorsionada por ningún hardware. Incluso se avanzó tecnológicamente en ese elemento físico, al punto que chips específicos gestionaban las reproducciones pues se encargaban de manera exclusiva de la descompresión de los ficheros de música (leamos tarjetas de sonido concretas o incorporadas a las placas matrices). Pero todo este entramado de mezclas y usos de sonidos y músicas, tenía el fin último de envol- ver en un contexto de juego específico al jugador, para ofrecer originalidad a la experiencia. De ahí que un logro importante fue el de emplear una música “esperada” en un ámbito concreto. Fue el caso del juego Star Wars: X-Wing (LucasArts, 1993), donde se emplearon partituras inspiradas en las de John Williams destinadas a las primeras películas de la saga. La razón no es otra que la de gene- rar un ambiente que absorba al gamer y lo identifique con lo que ve a través de lo que oye. Pero lo más interesante para el objetivo de este estudio no es el empleo del por entonces novedoso sistema de sonido iMUSE23, sino que los sonidos que escuchamos en el videojuego responden exclusiva- mente al universo imaginado en las películas, y eso es lo que espera el usuario: no podríamos escu- char ruidos ni música en el vacío espacial, y sin embargo hemos generado una imagen audiovisual difícil de romper por mucho que nos explique la Física otra cosa diametralmente opuesta. Para los videojuegos ambientados en el Medievo, es igual: melodías contextualizadoras y ruidos generados en un imaginario fruto de la cinematografía a lo largo del siglo XX. Y esto es así. Los fotogramas han fijado en la memoria colectiva hechos, comportamientos, ges- tos... sonidos... que ya será difícil erradicar de la cultura popular como imágenes nítidas de cómo fue el pasado, aunque en realidad lo fuese de otra forma. Siempre se alude al desenlace en un combate entre gladiadores en el anfiteatro romano como algo inventado por el cine. Pero también podemos mencionar que la “música de Roma” ha quedado expuesta en las épicas partituras de Miklós Rózsa para Ben-Hur (William Wyler, 1959), sobre todo en Preludio y en Anno Domini, Rey de Reyes (Nicholas Ray, 1961) o Quo Vadis? (Mervyn LeRoy, 1951), las tres producidas por la MGM, por no mencionar la banda sonora realizada por el mismo compositor para El Cid (Samuel Bronston,

22. “Música de videojuegos”. Wikipedia. 1 junio 2014. . 23. Interactive Music Streaming Engine, by Michael Land and Peter McConnell. Motor to the playing of videogame music. IMUSE. Wikipedia. 13 enero 2014. .

538 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 1961)24. Insistimos en este punto porque si esas piezas influyeron de manera sobresaliente sobre el

cine posterior y contribuyó a asentar aún más esa idea de lo que era la antigüedad romana, el pun- n gl is h to de inflexión sobrevino con el estreno de la películaGladiator , cuya banda sonora es del citado E in Hans Zimmer. No resulta extraño comprobar que la banda musical del videojuego Rome Total War (The Creative Assembly), obra de Jeff van Dyck, toma como modelo la composición del músico alemán dejando de lado la “clásica” generada por el estilo grandioso de Rózsa. Por eso, es clave comprender que la banda sonora que se ha aplicado a los videojuegos de conte- ubm i tted S nido histórico ambientado en el periodo medieval casi siempre se ha vinculado a lo que el usuario no t medio esperaba escuchar: una melodía que califique como perfectamente posible en un contexto del Medievo. No se asume la sensación auditiva de igual forma si escuchamos la música de fon- e x t s do con flauta y acordes antiguos enStronghold 3 (Firefly Studios, 2011) mientras vemos cómo T

recolectamos manzanas o cortamos madera, que si estuviésemos oyendo una música pop actual. the

La experiencia de juego es radicalmente distinta. No es una opinión: el desarrollador hace, en la o f mayor parte de las ocasiones, cosas que respondan bien a la demanda, por lo que en buena lógica, utilizará en la medida de lo posible y cada vez que lo considere oportuno esa música que “suene 25 al Medievo”, o al menos, que lo inspire . Es un caso muy parecido a la banda sonora de Los Sims r i g in al s Medieval (Electronic Arts, 2011). El juego, uno de los sandbox más conocidos, contiene melodías O de corte medieval obra de John Debney. El compositor, autor de bandas sonoras cinematográficas como La isla de las cabezas cortadas (Renny Harlin, 1995), La Pasión (Mel Gibson, 2004), Regreso al Futuro (Volver al Futuro en Iberoamérica, Robert Zemeckis, 1985), El Rey Escorpión (Chuck Russell, 2002) o Sé lo que hicisteis el último verano (Sé lo que hicieron el verano pasado en Iberoamérica, Jim Gi- llespie, 1997), incorpora de forma plena esa ambientación que acompaña al desarrollo del juego. Pues de eso se trata, de ambientar, pero también de inspirar y, sobre todo, de identificar con el con- texto histórico del juego. Ciertamente se trata de un sonido épico, en paralelo con el objetivo del producto: “¡Conquista el Medievo con Los Sims! ¡Tu reino te aguarda!” (contracubierta del juego). Es un caso muy similar al de Jeremy Soule, “el John Williams de los videojuegos”, autor de las bandas sonoras de la saga Harry Potter, o de IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey, pero que nos interesa mu- cho más por ser el compositor de The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion y The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (ilustración 3). Cada una de ellas es plenamente reconocida por parte de los usuarios no ya con el Medievo onírico y de fantasía que retratan estos últimos títulos, sino con los propios productos. Comparamos estos casos con otros más identificados con la composición de bandas sonoras para películas de cine, como el de James Horner para Braveheart (Mel Gibson, 1995). Pasan de ser rememoraciones de melodías identificativas con el Medievo, bajo un filtro actualizado de música contemporánea, con la imagen auditiva del título (película o videojuego). En último término es un modelo generado a raíz de un canon preestablecido que se ha extendido a lo largo de la carrera ci- nematográfica del siglo XX, tal y como venimos mencionando. Extrapolada la cuestión al apartado

24. El compositor húngaro tuvo varios encuentros con don Ramón Menéndez Pidal, asesor histórico oficial del film, de quien tomó diversas ideas para determinadas piezas. Vidal, José. “El Cid. Reseña”. Score Magacine. 8 septiembre 2008. 1 Junio 2014. . 25. Para el videojuego Robin Hood: The legend os Sherwood (Spellbound Entertainment Software, 2002, aunque reeditado por FX Interactive en 2009), Santiago Lamelo Fagilde realiza el siguiente comentario: “La música está bien, está muy bien ambientada en la época y no se hace demasiado repetitiva... pero yo la desconecto”. Meristation. 24 diciembre 2002. 1 junio 2014 . Lo hemos incluido para mostrar la arbitrariedad de cada usuario a la hora de su particular experiencia de juego, algo con lo que hay que contar en todo momento.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 539 visual, la iconografía de un combate medieval la tenemos de Orson Welles, quien en Campanadas

nglish a medianoche (1966) abrió un camino desde donde cineastas posteriores pudieron construir se-

E cuencias ya clásicas de una batalla medieval, y nuevamente Braveheart nos es útil como referencia in para lo que comentamos. La fotografía de esta película es la idea que tenemos, la más verosímil para nuestra memoria conceptual de cómo es el mundo, de cómo era y, en definitiva, de cómo percibi- mos el pasado. ubmitted Como reflexión final debemos plantear una cuestión lógica, y es que si tenemos claro que la S música medieval es la que se ha podido atesorar por tradición oral (musical en este caso) y, sobre n o t todo, por las partituras conservadas, la pregunta es si lo que aspiramos a escuchar como melodía “medieval”, se corresponde con la realidad de los hechos, es decir, si la música medieval que escu- exts

T chamos en el videojuego existió o no. La respuesta es evidente: es lo que parece, y nuestra socie-

the dad, seguidora como todas de modelos claros y definidos, si no tiene esos referentes culturales, los

o f genera o los inventa, de forma que poco importa si esa melodía es o no medieval: lo fundamental

es que pueda parecerlo, y en definitiva, que pueda simular el contexto para generar la experiencia de juego. riginals

O 3.2. Sonidos y ruidos

El sonido es una sensación que se genera en el oído a partir de las vibraciones de las cosas. Sólo desde hace algunas décadas, la historia lo ha tomado en cuenta como objeto de estudio. Para el caso que nos ocupa, y en paralelo a lo que supone una banda sonora como melodía que genera la experiencia de juego, los efectos especiales producidos por un buen acompasamiento de ruidos específicos (puerta que se cierra, trabuquete que se lanza, choque de espadas, galopar o trotar, relinchos, ladridos..., gritos...) logran recrear ese ambiente envolvente que en última instancia pre- tende un juego. En este sentido es más plausible reproducir ruidos específicos hoy que rememorar cierta música que no se ha conservado y que solo permanece en nuestra alhacena imaginativa, pues basta con recrear en estudio o en la realidad y grabarlo. El desarrollo de las melodías al que hemos hecho alusión como avance tecnológico es aplicable igualmente al de los sonidos-ruidos de los videojuegos. Los combates en primera persona en Chivalry, o los desarrollados por las huestes en Medieval Total War II, tienen su referente en los ruidos ambientales, con el fin de lograr una ma- yor calidad de simulación. No se busca otra cosa. Se pretende de forma directa introducir al usuario en un escenario concreto, y los avances de procesamiento de sonido envolvente (5.1 o 7.1, el uso habitual de Dolby Digital para las últimas generaciones de consolas, que reproducen tracks de 16 bits a 48 kHz...) han dado un salto cualitativo de gran importancia. Poco más hay que comentar en este sentido, pues se vislumbra lo obvio. No obstante, merece la pena aludir a la proposición de Carolina Zuniño26, quien establece la siguiente clasificación de sonidos en los videojuegos: 1. Los diegéticos son del mundo simulado; digamos ruido de gritos, pasos, disparos y explosiones en un juego de guerra, y 2. Los extradiegéticos, ajenos al mundo y lejos de una realidad aparente, como la banda sonora o la musiquita del Pac-Man después de comer los Power Pellets. En este caso, es muy interesante

26. Zunino, Carolina. “Música y efectos de sonido en Videojuegos”. Montevideo: Universidad ORT (conferencia), 27 de febrero de 2012.

540 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 el fusionado que se produce cuando se incorpora una melodía de estas características como

banda sonora de un filme cuyo guion es de un videojuego, caso de la piezaLife in the Arcade, n gl is h

obra de Henry Jackman, en Rompe Ralph! (Rich Moore, 2012). E in En los títulos desarrollados hasta la última década del siglo XX, es difícil separar ambos tipos de sonidos, pues la limitación tecnológica no hacía posible el desarrollo de esas bandas sonoras de efectos sonoros. En cambio, hoy es fácil saber que en el World of Warcraft un “plin” que suena al lanzar un hechizo es diegético y al cliquear un botón es extradiegético. Pero más allá de esta ubm i tted S consideración, y enmarcado en el ámbito de los sonidos-ruidos de ambiente, es muy interesante el no t uso que se hace de este elemento, pues ayuda a situar al jugador en el escenario pertinente, en el espacio concreto y que aguarda sin sorpresa aparente. Un ejemplo. En los Sims Medieval, el hecho e x t s de acercarse a una iglesia hace que el sonido que se escuche sea el de una sucesión de toques de T

campana, muy litúrgico, ayudado además de un sutil eco de voces corales; en cambio, el mismo the

acercamiento a la taberna genera una melodía con tempo allegro, con el uso de la flauta y con ecos o f de voces desordenadas, en una recreación virtual de un sonido ambiente de un espacio común desenfadado y sin protocolo aparente. r i g in al s

3.3. Voces O

Es muy interesante este apartado por cuanto uno de los fondos más clásicos que asumimos de lo que fue la música en el Medievo tiene su expresión oral. Y no solo por lo más identificado, el canto gregoriano, sino que la cultura popular de juglares y trovadores hallaban en estas representaciones parte de su idiosincrasia más veraz. La imagen de ese paisaje sonoro urbano buscado en la recreación y simulación virtual en el ámbito del videojuego, no varía del que puede buscar cualquier responsable de sonido en un filme. Ese “sonido ambiente” lo encontramos de igual forma en The Guild 2 (RuneForge)27, o en toda la saga de Assassin’s Creed (Ubisoft), por no decir en todos. En paralelo y como fusión entre música y voces, no es extraño que el inicio de otras bandas so- noras cinematográficas comiencen con un acto coral, caso deEl Reino de los Cielos (2005), de Harry Gregson-Williams (autor por cierto, de otras de similar interés para el tema que nos ocupa, como Prince of Persia. Las Arenas del Tiempo, o Las Crónicas de Narnia, y también de Call of Duty 4-Modern Warfare, que aparece en el álbum recopilatorio The Greatest videogame music aludido28), o más cono- cido en el de Star Wars I. La amenaza fantasma (Georges Lucas, 1999), de John Williams, que recurre al modelo del Carmina Burana de Carl Orff, para generar una imagen legendaria. Pero nos interesa la reproducción vocal de los personajes aparecidos, ya que en absoluto repro- ducen la forma de hablar de aquel tiempo. Posiblemente es una conclusión simplista en exceso, pero la planteamos como medio para expresar de nuevo que se trata de un recurso de comerciali- zación del producto. Uno de los grandes avances tecnológicos fue poder aplicar a cada personaje su propia voz, lo que repercutió en un aumento de la calidad en la experiencia de juego, aunque en

27. En alusión a este juego, se permite al usuario al configurar al personaje con el que se jugará, elegir entre católico y protestante. El videojuego se inicia cronológicamente en 1400, por lo que se trata de uno de esos errores históricos que se sacrifican en beneficio del criterio particular del diseñador. No cabe otra explicación. La música “tiene la peculiaridad de coincidir en una gran cantidad de melodías con la MMORPG de Frogster, Runes of Magic”. Comentario de José Álvaro Sañudo Díaz para Meristation: “Esperando al Renacimiento”. 23 agosto 2010. Meristation PC. 1 junio 2014 . 28. Véase la nota 14.

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 541 ocasiones la sincronización de labios y lo que dicen no sea muy exacta. Y es un elemento digno de

nglish tener en cuenta, pues se logran incorporar factores en la dinámica del videojuego que sirven para

E su desarrollo. Es el caso de Soldier of Fortune (Raven, 2000), que según la localización del idioma del in enemigo, te ubica el juego en la parte del mundo donde se desarrolla la acción29. La entonación y las voces conocidas de actores de doblaje, que participan cada vez más en la banda sonora de algunos videojuegos, son parte fundamental de estas mejoras en la experiencia de ubmitted juego a la que nos referimos. Ya mencionamos el caso de Ramón Langa y su trabajo prestando su S voz a fray Leonardo de Toledo en The Abbey, pero está siendo una práctica común entre las estrellas n o t de cine, que cada vez en mayor número se deciden a poner sus voces a personajes de videojuegos30, lo que ayuda a que el jugador se sienta más involucrado y cómodo. Ciertamente la entonación es exts

T esencial, pues es uno de los rasgos que integra al gamer en el desarrollo de la historia, imprescindi-

the ble para dotar de verosimilitud a cualquier situación (violenta, afectuosa, luctuosa, etc.) que puede

o f aparecer en el videojuego. En este sentido, cabe señalar el gran efecto dramático que provocan

las arengas militares escuchadas al inicio de algunas batallas en la saga Total War, o los ruegos de pedigüeños en Assassin’s Creed.

riginals Este apartado tiene diversas perspectivas desde las que se puede abordar el tema, por lo que no O profundizaremos más a la espera de otros estudios más concretos: las traducciones empleadas31, los diversos acentos para el caso del idioma español, el uso de interjecciones malsonantes y lo po- líticamente correcto, las voces femeninas y su rol en el videojuego, como las diversas mujeres que aparecen en los diferentes títulos de la saga Assassin’s Creed —incluido el de Liberation y su heroína Avelyne de Grandpré—, o los narradores en off. Este último elemento es muy interesante en el caso de Age of Empires II (Ensemble Studios, 1999), pues en los vídeos introductorios de cada campaña aparece una narración que presenta la fase que se ha de jugar y pone voz a un personaje, de ficción o no, cuyo acento o entonación contribuyen a generar ese contexto histórico. No obstante, y antes de concluir este subapartado, debemos aludir a los casos en los que las “vo- ces” son protagonistas en sí mismas. Nos referimos a los bardos que aparecen en los Sims Medieval, o los trovadores de Assassin’s Creed II. Son la fusión de la música empleada como banda sonora, voces en sí mismos, y realmente los ruidos que emiten, ya que se trata de personajes, sobre todo en el último ejemplo, que desempeñan un rol específico en el juego donde su escasa calidad musical los convierte en auténticos estorbos para el cumplimiento de la misión. Pero todos se acomodan a los tonos y melodías esperados, y que podríamos ubicar en esa “música medieval”.

4. Imaginario sonoro medieval y conclusiones

Así como determinados personajes (templarios, cruzados), ámbitos (castillos) y referencias his- tóricas (Cruzadas) remiten a la Edad Media en tanto nuestro contexto cultural así lo considera, ¿qué música y qué sonidos remiten, en los videojuegos, a nuestro imaginario mundo medieval? En

29. Meristation PC. Soldier of Fortune. 13 enero 2015. . 30. Este aspecto ya ha sido objeto de una específica atención en: Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “The other possible part: simulation of the Middle Ages in videogames”. Imago Temporis Medium Aevum. 5 (2011): 309-310. Una muy interesante actualización del mismo tema puede encontrarse en: Jiménez, Juan Francisco. “Talento tras el micro”. Hobby consolas, 255 (2012): 110-115. 31. Serón, Inmaculada. “La traducción de videojuegos de contenido histórico, o documentarse para traducir historia”. Trans. Revista de Traductología, 15 (2011): 103-114.

542 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 primer lugar, hay que señalar que la diversidad de lo que entendemos como “música medieval” es

enorme, en respuesta a lo dilatado del fenómeno en el tiempo y su reflejo en las diversas culturas, n gl is h incluso diferente según los estratos sociales: en definitiva, de los gustos específicos del individuo/ E in grupo ubicado en un tiempo y en un espacio. Hemos aludido constantemente a lo largo del pre- sente estudio a ese concepto, esa iconografía audiovisual específica, de lo que se presupone que fue el ámbito sonoro en el Medievo. Lógicamente no es un fenómeno exclusivo del periodo, sino que podemos relacionar perfectamente, y además con similar facilidad para épocas posteriores. En ubm i tted S Empire: Total War (The Creative Assembly, 2009), las melodías que se pueden escuchar mientras se no t carga en el PC la batalla vistual, se identifican con piezas inspiradas en el tipo de música barroca propia del siglo XVIII, centuria en la que se centra el videojuego, por no hablar de Shogun Total War, e x t s donde la totalidad de la banda sonora se corresponde con sintonías japonesas. Todas ellas han teni- T

do que ver con el trabajo de Jeff van Dyck, como en el caso del resto de títulos de la saga, incluidos the

todos los de época medieval y sus expansiones (Viking Invasion o Kingdoms). Insistimos, se trata de o f experiencias de juego donde el sonido desempeña un papel crucial32. Francisco Pérez Quevedo subraya que la música de los videojuegos se caracteriza por la adaptabi-

lidad (la música se adapta a lo que ocurre en el videojuego), el dinamismo (la música cambia diná- r i g in al s micamente, según las acciones del jugador), la información (la música informa al jugador de eventos O que ocurren en pantalla), la inmersión (la música simplifica la inmersión del jugador en el mundo virtual) y el carácter narrativo (la música ayuda a narrar la historia del videojuego). En este sentido constituye un imaginario sonoro que fusiona elementos de la música y la sonoridad contemporáneas con otros provenientes de diferentes tradiciones folclóricas que remiten, supuestamente, al mundo medieval. A pesar de ello, este imaginario se caracteriza por su falta de historicidad. No obstante, el deseo de los desarrolladores es en todo momento, involucrar al usuario en el contexto histórico que pretende simular el videojuego. Es el caso de Medieval Total War (The Creative Assembly, 2002), donde cada facción, cada reino, tiene su particular melodía, pudien- do escuchar desde cantos gregorianos hasta ritmos orientales árabes, y además, se ajusta a los acontecimientos que suceden en el juego. El cambio de calidad en cuanto a los efectos sonoros sobrevino en las ediciones siguientes. Los consejos de Juan J. Fermín en la crítica realizada a este título precisamente, donde aludía a la excesiva simpleza de los mismos33, parece que hubieran sido escuchados por el equipo de desarrollo, pues en los siguientes productos de la serie, este apartado está muy conseguido, simulando escenarios cinematográficos muy realistas. Y aquí parece radicar

32. Como muestra para el caso de Napoleon: Total War (2010), reproducimos el comentario sobre este apartado del vi- deojuego por Nicholas Werner en Inside Gaming Daily (3 marzo 2010): “This is a no-brainer: the game sounds amazing. Whether is be the first volley of musket fire, the distant rumble of cannons, the yell of charging troops, or even the piper playing a marching tune, the sound design on this game is stellar from top to bottom. You’ll want to dip down into the fighting just to hear the bayonets clashing. The musical score is unapologetically epic, and would almost border on the silly if it weren’t for the fact that this is Napoleon, who really was that epic. This is a feast for your ears”. 1 junio 2014 . Se trata, en efecto, de una opinion, de un juicio de valor, pero nuestro propósito es mostrar una vez más la propia experiencia de juego. 33. Fermín, Juan J. “El arte de la guerra”. Meristation. 24 octubre 2002. Tras aludir a la calidad de la música: “No se pueden aplicar los mismos elogios a los efectos de sonido. Si bien se ajusta a la distancia y el ángulo de la cámara, re- sulta deprimente oír un simple y poco entusiasta “¡Ah!” cuando más de mil hombres se lanzan a la carga. Yo hago más ruido cuando me vacunan de la gripe, sobre todo si quien esgrime la aguja es Greta, una enfermera vikinga que me saca cuarenta kilos. El resto, desde el cabalgar de la caballería al entrechocar de los aceros, son bastante apagados y carecen de convicción. Desde aquí, un consejo a los responsables de sonido: la próxima vez metan en sus ordenadores el DVD de Gladiator o Braveheart, y háganlo funcionar en cualquier escena de batalla con el monitor apagado. Y díganse: “Así es como debo hacerlo yo”. 1 junio 2014 .

Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 543 la clave de todo lo que venimos diciendo: el videojuego busca recrear para su re-creación, en de-

nglish finitiva, lograr el efecto de simulación más idóneo, el mismo modelo auditivo que el cine, en ese

E proceso bidireccional que desde hace más de una década se está produciendo entre ambos medios in de expresión cultural. Vemos la inspiración de Jeff van Dyck para Rome Total War en Gladiator, la épica de John Williams en Salvad al soldado Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998)34 en las notas de Michael Giacchino en Medal of Honor de Electronic Arts, tanto para Allied Assault (2002) como Airborne ubmitted (2007); precisamente este último es uno de los mejores ejemplos, junto con Zimmer, de lo que S exponemos; Giacchino también es compositor de bandas sonoras tan conocidas como Star Trek: en n o t la oscuridad (J.J. Abrams, 2013), Los increíbles (Brad Bird, 2004), Ratatouille (también de Brad Bird en colaboración con Jan Pinkava, 2007), Up (Peter Docter, 2009) etcétera. exts

T Por lo tanto, es preciso contar con esos espacios sonoros para lograr la simulación de un contex-

the to que imaginamos verosímil, y además, que acompaña y envuelve en un ambiente de ubicación

o f que genera el “paisaje sonoro” medieval al que aspira recrear, aquí sí, pues se trata de una situación

fingida, el videojuego. Para reconstruirlos, consideramos posible recurrir a algunos de los postulados establecidos por 35 riginals Claudia Gorbman para la música del cine narrativo, así como también algunos conceptos de la O semiótica aplicada a la música: tanto el videojuego como el cine son medios de comunicación au- diovisuales y, por lo tanto, imágenes y sonidos se funden en la comunicación y en la percepción del mensaje36 y, en particular los videojuegos históricos seleccionados presentan los rasgos técnicos, estructurales y formales compatibles con la cinematografía de narrativa clásica: desarrollo narrati- vo lineal con inicio, medio y fin37. En un futuro próximo, es posible que contemplemos híbridos que así profundicen en este fenómeno. Un último interrogante. ¿Es posible distinguir entre imaginarios sonoros de los creadores de los videojuegos e imaginarios sonoros de los jugadores? En realidad no, pues se trata de cubrir una demanda previa por parte de los segundos, y que hay que partir de un factor decisivo: el diseñador de videojuegos es también su usuario. Desea cubrir lo solicitado por el jugador, y utiliza el mismo criterio, la misma memoria auditiva y el mismo código para identificar melodía y sonidos con un pasado, en este caso con el medieval en sus más tópicas variantes, tanto si se trata de un juego que involucre a sociedades cristianas como si lo hace con islámicas.

34. Las bandas sonoras de Band of Brothers, de Michael Kanen, o la de The Pacific, de Hans Zimmer, pueden ser incluidas en este apartado. 35. Gorbman, Claudia. Unheard Melodies. Narrative Film Music. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. 36. Al construir una teoría de la “Audiovisión”, Michel Chion abordó la relación entre sonido e imagen como una colaboración mutua de dos lenguajes distintos para la formulación de un significado o la intensificación de una deter- minada percepción. El concepto desarrollado por Chion se refiere al “valor añadido” del sonido. De este modo, hace referencia a la cualidad expresiva e informativa con que un sonido enriquece una imagen dada, resultando desde allí lo que él denomina una “ilusión audiovisual”. Chion, Michel. La Audiovisión. Introducción a un análisis conjunto de la imagen y el sonido. Barcelona: Paidós, 1993. 37. La “narrativa clásica” es definida por la teoría del cine como un estilo de montaje que da prioridad a la continuidad narrativa y dramática. No es propiamente un modelo, sino un conjunto de opciones y convenciones que tienen como objetivo preservar la unidad del espacio escénico, creando una inteligibilidad espacial para los eventos narrados. Ver: Suzana Miranda. “Escutarum Filme: Variações de uma mesma Música”. Anais do XIII Encontro Nacional da Anppom. Música do Século XXI. Tendências, Perspectivas e Paradigmas. Belo Horizonte: Escola de Música da Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais, 2001: II, 554-560.

544 Imago Temporis. Medium Aevum, IX (2015): 530-544. ISSN 1888-3931 NORMS FOR PUBLICATION

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• A book: Author last name, first name.Book title. Place of publication: Publisher, Year of publication: volume, pages. Connel, William J. La città dei crucci. Fazioni e clienteli in uno stato reppubblicano del ‘400. Florence: Nuova Toscana editrice, 2000: 24-25. Bisson, Thomas N. Fiscal accounts of Catalonia under the early count-kings (1151-1213). Berkeley-Los Angeles-London: University of California Press, 1984: I, 125-129. • A chapter in a book: Author last name, first name, “Chapter of the book”,Book title, editor of the publication. Place of publication: Publisher, Year of publication: pages. Leroy, Beatrice, “Les juifs convertis dans les villes de Castille au XVe siècle», La ville au Moyen Âge, Noël Coulete et Olivier Guyotjeannin, dirs. Paris: Éditions du CTHS, 1998: 365-378. Cursente, Benoît. “Les montagnes des médiévistes”, Montaignes médiévales. XXXIV Congrès de la Société des historiens médiévistes de l’Enseignament supérieur public (Chambéry, 23-25 mai 2003).Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2004: 415-433. • An edition: Author last name, first name if it is.Title , editor’s name. Place: Publisher, date of publication: pages. Homilies d’Organyà, ed. Joan Coromines. Barcelona: Fundació Revista de Catalunya, 1989: 38-40. Troyes, Chrétien de. Le chevalier de la charrette, ed. Catherine Croizy-Naquet. Paris: Honoré Champion, 2006: 70. Col·lecció diplomàtica de la casa del Temple de Barberà (945-1212), ed. Josep Maria Sans i Travé. Barcelona: Departament de Justícia de la Generalitat de Catalunya, 1997: 109 (doc. 33). • An encyclopaedia or dictionary: Author of entry. “Title of entry.” Title of reference book. (Edition number). Place of publication: Publisher Year of publication: volume, pages. Aarab, Rachib. “Islam”. Enciclopèdia de Barcelona, Barcelona: Enciclopèdia Catalana, 2006: III, 94-95. • A periodical (newspaper or journal): Author last name, first name. “Article title”. Title of periodical, Date of periodical (or, if a journal, volume number, followed by year in parentheses): Pages. Raxhon, Philippe. “Décrytage d’un manifeste d’historiens”. La Libre Belgique, 25 January 2006: 30. • A scientific article Author last name, first name. “Article title”. Title of publication, number (year of publication): pages. Catalán, Diego. “La historiografía en verso y en prosa de Alfonso XI a la luz de nuevos textos. III: Prioridad de la Crónica respecto a la Gran Crónica”, Anuario de Estudios Medievales, 2 (1965): 257-299. • A website: Author of webpage. “Article Title.” Title of webpage. Date of publication. Institution associated with (if not cited earlier). Date of retrieval . Tambareau, Caroline. «Pierre Nora: la mémoire divise, l’histoire réunit». Les Clionautes. 16 October 2005, Centre de Ressources Informatiques 74. 10 August 2006 . • Unpublished documents or manuscrits: Name of archive or library. Section. Series. Subseries, bundle or folder, number of sheet r-v or parchment. If the archive or library is cited more than once, this will be indicated by the habitual abbreviations used in the centre referred to and the author should write the meaning of the abbreviations used in the first note in the article. AHN. Instituciones Eclesiásticas. Clero regular. Premostratenses. Bellpuig de les Avellaness, 1, parchemin 1. BnF. Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal. Manuscrits latins, Ms.1, f. 1r.

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Send to the administration: ‘Espai, PoderiCultura’ Consolidated Medieval Studies Research Group Universitat de Lleida Plaça de Víctor Siurana, 1 25003 Lleida (Catalonia) (Spain) [email protected] Summary

I Part. The Past Interrogated and Unmasked 25-45 Everyday Life in Medieval Portugal. A Historiographic Overview Maria Helena da Cruz Coelho 47-65 Medieval Studies in Chile. Review of their Formation and Publications Luis Rojas Donat 67-107 After the 12th Century: War and Legal Order (or, of Historiography and its Chimeras) Federico Devís 109-122 Holy War, Crusade and Reconquista in recent Anglo-American Historiography about the Iberian Peninsula Carlos Laliena

II Part. The Past Studied and Measured 125-144 The War in Leon and Castile (ca. 1110-1130). Internal Crisis and Imaginary of Violence Pascual Martínez 145-161 Rhythms in the Process of Drawing up Crusading Proposals in the Peninsula Amancio Isla 163-189 Wars in 12th Century Catalonia. Aristocracy and Political Leadership Maria Bonet 191-209 The Catalan-Aragonese Expedition to Toulouse and the Submission of Nice and Forcauquier (1175-1177): a before and an after in the Course of the Great Occitan War Pere Benito 211-223 War and Taxation. The Soldadas from the Reign of Alfonso VIII of Castile to the 13th Century Carlos Estepa IMAGO TEMPORIS Medium Aevum 225-252 Monks and Knights in Medieval Galicia. The Example of the Benedictines of Toxos Outos in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries Francesco Renzi 253-264 The Role of the Eucharist in the making of an Ecclesiology according to Haimo of Auxerre’s Commentary on I Cor Alfonso Hernández 265-286 Teleology, Natural Desire and Knowledge of God in the Summa Contra Gentiles Sebastián Contreras, Joaquín García-Huidobro 287-303 The Role of the Batlle General and Acquafredda Castle in Late 14th Century Regnum Sardiniae Alessandra Cioppi IMAGO TEMPORIS III Part. The Past Explained and Recreated 307-327 Medieval Soundspace in the new Digital Leisure Time Media Juan Francisco Jiménez, Gerardo Rodríguez 329-340 CARMEN: Collaboration in the Face of Contemporary Challenges Simon Forde

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